Pineapples and Cherries
by MarinaNamaste
Summary: Jake thinks he & Bella have a good thing going. That is, until Edward comes back. But the Ed doesn't come home alone. He brings his vivacious, beautiful cousin back with him. Renesmee...Follow Jacob's indecision as he lets go of a love he though could never be surpassed, only to leap, feet first into a new, breathtaking love and friendship. Ness. She's he's cherry on top. AU HUMAN
1. Chapter 1 Bella and Pineapple Daiquiris

**Hey all. I have another Jake/Nessie story for you. I want to give a big shout out to my beta Aretee. Thank you L for all your help. Any errors you all see are mine after the beta-ing. And thankyou for all the Americanisation L. It must be tricky getting the 'Aussie' out of my words sometimes, but you do it- so thanks.**

**Any who... here we go.**

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**Pineapples and Cherries**

**Chapter One – Bella and Pineapple daiquiris**

Her body is pinned against the back of the bathroom door as I slam into her. Again and again, riding her hard and fast, her head's softly banging against the door with each thrust. Her hands are clawing into my shoulders as she hangs on. Her nails, digging in to my skin as she starts to lose her mind. I'll admit, it's a little painful, but mixing it in with the hard and fast sex, it happily boosts the sensation. Her feet are atop of the counter of the vanity of her father's small bathroom, her toes holding on as her knees open wide while I stand between them. I hold her around the waist, pulling her body into me with each movement, bringing us both closer to that point of release.

"E…Jake!" she calls, "Jake." I ignore the little _almost_ slip of the tongue. Instead focus on the throaty gluteal plea of want. It is a sound that I had once only ever thought I would hear in my dreams, the very best and wettest kinds. Now finally, over the spring and the summer, I've become best friend AND boyfriend AND amazing sex against the back of Charlie's bathroom door, lover.

We continue on, fucking while standing upright, the steam of the still vacant shower fills the space, warming us further and creating a wet sheen to both our skins, russet and cream. I don't consider myself a weak guy, in fact I'm pretty proud of my guns, but my arms are starting to burn from the load of holding her up, even as petite as she is. I can feel her walls start to tremble around me and I force my arms to hold for on for just a little longer. There is no way I'm going to stop the rhythm we have going just because of some pissy sore arms. She continues to make some more incomprehensible sounds as her wet and tight walls ripple her orgasm, her final climax a cut off cry as she loses all sense of time and space. Two more thrusts and I start to lose that so carefully maintained rhythm; pausing on the out stroke, then with one mighty plunge, I bring my cock deep into her, my love spilling all the way inside. Well, inside the rubber. A few more concluding thrusts and I'm done. Spent. I manoeuvre her so she can stand on her own two jellied legs. Huffing and panting from the exertion, I lean my head on her bare shoulder, her long brown hair, curling and tickling against my slick chest.

"Oh my god," she pants. "Oh my god." Her eyes are closed and her lashes are fanning over her cheeks as she bumps her head back against the door in an absent and quiet reverence of what we have just shared. Her mouth is slightly open as she attempts to catch her breath and her chest is heaving as I watch her pert tits moving with each breath. Her nipples were a rosy pink, hard and budded, and inviting me to suck. I resist though, I know that after our evening's endeavours she won't be up to anything more for a while. I cup my hand around her neck, my thumb lightly gliding over her swollen and reddened lips. Then it lovingly brushes over a cheek that's in full flush, redden by a combination of the exertion of holding on, the steam of the hot water and the flush of a woman well pleasured. I love her blush. I love _her_. Period.

As our breathing comes back to normal and my dick softens and slips out, I pull off the rubber, knotting it and tossing it into the miniature bin on the counter. She takes a deep quick breath and her eyes open to mine; chestnut meeting with dark bitter-sweet chocolate. I kiss her quickly but meaningfully, "I love you," I whisper against her temple, kissing her lightly again. A smile spreads across my lips as I leant back and tap her playfully on the nose with a finger, breaking the moment before it could get awkward. I make a point of always telling her how I feel, especially after we make love, or have sex, or fuck against the back of a bathroom door—whatever you want to call it. But I don't wait for the reply I know is never coming. I try not to kid myself; I know her heart is still in the hands of another. Another _dickhead_ that is. Doesn't mean her conspicuous silence doesn't sting each time.

She pushes off the door, ducking under my arms and reaching over to adjust the scolding shower water before stepping in. "We're going to be late now," she scolds playfully, her voice echoing slightly from the confined of the cubicle.

"It's your fault Bells, that bra was too good," I counter, stepping under the water spray with her. I press my hands together forming a cup and splashed my face trying to keep my hair dry. We'd been just about to get into the shower and get ready for a local party before the shower got even more 'steamy'. I'd taken one look at the deep red bra set she had on and any thought of cleaning shifted to _dirty_ ones.

"I thought you'd like it," she smiles, teasingly biting her lower lip between her teeth. She knows just how turned on that lip between the teeth thing gets me. Tease.

"Yes. I liked it a lot," I mummer, my deep voice rumbling in my chest as I pull her body flush against mine. Her titties squish like giant, soft marshmallows between us. Both her hands are splayed against my pecs, her fingers sensually outlining the square set of the muscle.

"Well, I promise I'll wear it another time for you. But right now, we have to get out and get dressed." Bella leans over and quickly shuts off the tap. "You know how Alice gets if I'm late, I promised her we'd be the first to get there so she didn't have to be alone when people started to arrive."

Alice is Bella's best _girl_friend. They've been best friends since her and her family arrived in Forks three years ago. Before that, _I_ was Bella's best friend. I guess I still am. But over the last few years, things had gotten a bit confused and we let boys and age and race come between us.

As kids, we had been inseparable. Bella's dad and my dad are best friends, and after her mom left when she was around six, they started spending a hell of a lot of time with us on the Res. My mom became a kind of surrogate mother for her. Cleaning us up when our escapades got messy, letting us help in the kitchen when she baked, mostly it was Bella helping and me licking the bowl. My mom took Bells under her wing and the Swans have been a paleface extension of our family ever since.

That connection was cemented when my mom died. I was eight and Bella was nine and I didn't take it well, I retreated into myself and basically stopped talking and eating straight afterwards. My Bells was there every day for me though. She felt the loss of the woman she considered a mother too and she look a few weeks off school and stayed at our place. She never left me alone, holding my hand through the funeral. She forced me to talk and eventually, to cry over her death. It took her eleven days to get me to cry. We were tucked up together in my twin set bed, my ninja turtle pyjamas on, her in her care bear nightie. She was talking to me about the songs mom used to sing, and she started to hum one of the simple Quileute tunes we'd often hear as she painted in her makeshift studio in the garage loft. That music, echoing out of my best friend's lips had been the last of the memories I'd had of mom, and it was that sound that broke the proverbial camel's back. I cried in Bella's arms that night, for what felt like hours. We ended up sneaking into Rach and Becca's room, pushed their beds together, and squeezed in together with them. I slept well for the first time in almost two weeks that night.

That was what Bella was to me. Back then.

I've always gone go school on the Reservation, and she in Forks. Didn't stop us from hanging out on weekends and school beaks though. That was until the year she went to high school… and I was still in middle. We still saw each other for the monthly Clearwater- Black- Swan pasta nights and when dad and I would come over for the old men to watch a game. But I was a middle schooler and she a high schooler. I was on the Res, she was in the town. I was a boy, she was a girl. That was what had started to define us. Until it got to a point that we hardly saw each other.

It got even worse when the Cullen family moved into town. She became best friends with Alice, and I guess she didn't need me anymore or something. And then she hooked up with Alice's brother, Edward. He was a senior and freaking tall and all the girls swooned over him and suddenly Bella didn't even go to the pasta nights anymore.

I transferred to Forks high for the last three years of high school—better academic and athletic options in a larger school—because I have high hopes for my own future after school and they don't involve saying in La Push for the rest of my life. Maybe one day I'll settle down here, but not during my best years. So, anyway, I transferred to Forks High School, and I was totally in love with her. My sophomore year was total torture for me. My old best friend—who hardly gave me the time of day anymore—was also a totally hot, beautiful, perfect chick. During the lunch breaks, I tried to get Bells to hang with me, even for a little bit. But the 'Ed' was a controlling douche, and the two were practically joined at the hip and at the lips— and the crouch too, or so I'm told. I never _actually_ saw then going for it.

And then good old Ed graduated and left for college. Not before ruthlessly breaking up with her, like… two days before he left. Douche. Those few months after he up and left were harrowing to watch. Overnight she went from a happy normal-ish teenager to a blank, depressed, introverted Emo. She didn't even hang with Alice much either, I guess she reminded her too much of her precious douche. She was like an empty shell. A zombie devoid of all emotions, even the negative ones. At one point I thought for sure she was gunna start cutting just to feel something. It had hurt that none of us were enough to make her feel compete. Not her dad, not Alice… not me.

I had been watching her sitting by herself in the cafeteria one day, at the beginning of her senior year, just sitting and staring at nothing, not touching the meagre amount of food she had on her plate, not talking to anyone. I remembered what she'd done for me all those years ago when it had been _me_ not eating or talking. I made it my personal goal to find the old Bella that I knew and loved, and was best friends with and bring her back to the world of the living.

That was a bit over a year ago, Bells graduated this year and I'll be a senior when school starts back in a few weeks. She is out of her funk now though. Well and truly. We started hanging out a bit more last year. Jake and Bells were back. I'd missed my bestie. We started to do all kinds of stuff together then. We even got hold of some old motor bikes and did them up as a project. That took us until October. Then, one of the guys from school had a Halloween party and we went together as leather clad bikers—purely platonic. But fuck me, did she look hot in leathers?! I'm guessing she thought I did too, because we ended up making out on Mike Newton's parents' bed that night. I lost my virginity to her about two weeks later on that twin size in my room we'd shared almost ten years earlier. And we've been fucking like bunnies ever since. It's been almost nine months, not that I'm keeping score. Well…I sort of am.

Bella is going to Washington State at Pullman next week. I'll miss her, but we've promised to give the long distance thing a try. And I'm going to do my best to get good enough grades to get into college there too. But that's not for another week; seven more days with her, seven more chances to get an "I love you too" out of her. I don't care if she says it after we have sex or maybe just as we're walking down the canned fruit aisle at the Outfitters, I just want to hear her say it because she wants to say it. Seven more days before Charlie and me drive her down to move her into an apartment she will be sharing with another school friend.

But I'm not gunna dwell on what's happening in seven days' time.

Tonight, we're headed over to the Cullen mansion for one of Alice's extravagant, yet thoroughly extraordinary end of summer parties. There should be lots of beer, some really great music, an awesome pool, maybe some skinny dipping, and most definitely NOT a douche bag named Edward in sight. The douche didn't come home this summer. Some kind of band camp, apparently. Good. Didn't need him messing things up when she was so happy now. With me.

So here we are, at least ten minutes early, walking up the driveway of the casa de Cullen. We not even up the first run of the porch steps when the eldest of the good doctor's kids comes barrelling out of the front door, lifting Bells up into a giant bear hug. Emmitt Cullen. He was like, the _best_ offensive tackle Forks high had ever seen, he got a scholarship to Notre Dame, and he was in the second round draft this year, and is about to start playing for the 49ers. I can't believe he's playing for them, the 49ers… Really? He's a Seahawks fan through and through, we hate the 49ers. Well, me, my dad and Charlie do anyway. But I guess a contract is a contract, and he _is_ pretty good at what he does. And he's a good guy, I wish him well. Unlike his douche brother.

He puts Bella down and the introductions are made. I've met him before, like, three years ago at football camp. I don't expect him to know me, but he says he remembers me. Apparently half decent native QB's are rare and memorable. I guess that's pretty cool.

Then Alice comes out, dragging us both inside by the hand. She wants us to try the virgin frozen daiquiri from the machine she rented. There are two machines actually. One is the virgin strawberry flavour, and the other—the other one—it tasted like a one gazillion proof, not at all virgin, cherry totally popped, pineapple. I go with the pineapple.

I whisper into Bella's ear, "you know babe, they say if you drink pineapple juice, your cum starts to taste sweet like pineapples." I'm willing to do my part to see if it's true. It would be _outstanding_ if she was too.

She gives me an "I can't believe you just said that" look, her cheeks flaming. But then she starts to bite on that plump, luscious lip again, bringing my little J to half-mast. "Is that really true?" she asks, her eyes narrowing as she observes me with scepticism.

I nod, a little smirk forming on my face. "That's what I've heard."

"We'll have to see later if is then then, won't we?"

Full mast now.

The theme of the night is 'secluded tropical island hideaway'. It should be a good night, lots of secluded hidey-holes, lots of guys with shirts off and girls in not much more that a bikini. Yes and thank you. Yes to the girls in bikinis—not to the guys without shirts. I know Bells has a deep blue bikini underneath her sundress. I'm not sure if I want her to strut her stuff in her swim suit in front of half the senior class guys or not. I'm not too keen on other men seeing just how fine she is, but on the other hand, it seems such a waste to hide behind all that material. I kind of want the boys to see her 'girls', and be a little jealous. I know that's totally sexist or whatever, but I don't see her stoping me from taking of _my_ shirt with my awesome guns on display, either.

We dump our stuff in the doorway of the spare room, we're staying the night here so we can get wasted and the olds will be none the wiser. The spare is basically Bella's room anyway, she's stayed at this house enough times over the past few years. Mr. and Mrs. Cullen basically allocated Bella her own space so she could keep a tooth brush and stuff in the private bathroom. A funny look crosses her face as we walk past the stairs leading up to the main bedroom wing. I guess she fucked the douche in one of those rooms up there. Don't want to think about it.

The party is good. Everything we've come to expect from an Alice-C-par-tay. The night is actually pretty warm for the pacific north-west and everyone is going crazy in the water. Kids from school are making out in every dark corner there is. I want to get Bells out of that dress and see that bikini I keep getting just tiny glimpses of.

We're leaning against the bar and I throw the last of my third pineapple daiquiri down, ignoring the brain freeze it gives me. "Let's go for a swim," I suggest as I take the almost empty drink from her hand and placed it on the counter behind us. My hands rest on either side of her hips, pulling her in closer, our bodies touching in all the right places. She melts a little into me; her second pineapple daiquiri has done wonders relaxing her up a bit.

"I think it's still a little cold for me," she shrugs, looking over to the pool but staring, unfocused; like she's seeing a memory. Probably got fucked by the douche in the water or something. Still don't want to think about it.

"Come on Bells, it's heated." I lower my head so I can better look into her eyes. "Everyone's in there. Just a few minutes? Then we can get out and I can find a fun way to warm you up." I smirk, winking and giving her hips a little shake. I know I'm laying the innuendo on a little too thick; but a boy's got to try.

She slaps my shoulder playfully, "is everything about sex with you Jake?" she laughs, shaking her head.

"Not _everything,"_ I defend,_ "_only things that involve _you_ babe." I say, giving my half mongrel a little nudge into her stomach for effect. "Watching you do _anything_ is sexy. Mostly because you don't even know just how sexy you are doing even the most mundane everyday things."

She loops her fingers through the strap of her dress, her finger running back and forth against the material. She's eyeing me suggestively; playfully, like maybe she's had one too many pineapple daiquiris. I'm not complaining. "I guess getting undressed _is _kind of mundane and 'every day'_ w_hen you put it like that." She giggles, pushing my hard-on back into her hip. "I guess we'd better get into the water then. To hide your shame." Her eyes are glistening in the torch light around the pool. The little vixen knows exactly the way she's teasing me. Still not complaining.

So, we get into the water. The blue bikini is everything I hoped it would be. Little pearl beads between her tits and threaded on the strap. The way the bow of the halter tie hangs over her neck with the little shiny, creamy dewdrops hanging like tassels, reminds me of a pearl necklace. Yeah, I'd like to give her one of those later on tonight.

We swim around the deep end of the pool for a bit. Tyler does a cannon ball and nearly cracks us both in the head. We're both pretty much drenched now, so I duck under the water and Bella follows suit. Her hair is so long that when she surfaces for air and stands up, the brown locks draped over her boobs. Her nipples were hard and the ends of her hair is curled right around both the rigid little high beams. The water is dripping off her like some kind of exotic porno slow-mo. She is a very fine sight to see. And Jake Junior is appreciating the view. There's no way I'm going to be able to get out of this water any time soon.

We we're in the shallow end of the pool and there is a little alcove of rocks that give us the illusion of some privacy. I take full advantage of the _illusion_. I sit down on a step that's under the water, pulling Bella on to my lap, so she's straddling me. If she wasn't sure of the effect she had on me, she knows now. We kiss a little, ignoring everyone else. The heat of her coochi is hot against my boardies. Her hands explore the line of my body-her soft little fingers reading brail over muscle. She always makes these little mewing noises when she's happy enjoying my body. I like it. I like it _a lot_.

We kiss for a little longer; tongues exploring mouths, our bodies are touching in all the right places. Finally, we come up for air; the pineapple tastes sweet on her breath as it blows across my face. She looks at me, her warm brown eyes happy and alive. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips were a little red.

"I love you" I say. I can't help myself. I love her. I do. And I want her to know. Even if she won't say it back. Maybe it's putting her in an awkward position. But I said it all the same. Her eyes soften a little. I know she loves me. I'm her best friend. Of course she does. But is she _**in**_love with me? Who knows? I hope so. I think she will, eventually. Seven days to get her to admit it.

As she sits here, nothing but lycra and cotton between poon and cock, she gets distracted by something. Her eyes darted over the top of the rock wall behind me, over my shoulder. Her face pales, all the colour from her cheeks washes away. She stares over my shoulder for a few breaths, eyes locked at the scene behind me. I shift under her, trying to turn and look behind. But before I can, Bella has her hands combing through my hair, pulling me closer as she attacks my lips. I have a sinking feeling for a moment that I'm being played as a pawn in some game I'm not privy to. But this is Bella. I love her. She loves me—even if she won't say it out loud. She wouldn't just use me. We're a thing. We have been for months. And whatever this mad crazy kissing thing is; it's pretty hot. So I go with it.

We make out some more, must be a good fifteen minutes of kissing. This is not helping my predicament below the waist though. How am I going to get out of this pool without the entire senior class of Forks High seeing the tent? I break off the kiss, lifting Bells up and floating her off my lap so that she's sitting beside me in the ledge. "We gotta stop kissing babe or I'm gunna cum in the pool and Alice would kill me if I did that."

She nods, her eyes not really meeting mine. There's this totally fake smile plastered across her face, it's so bad, I don't think I'd even call it a smile. It looks more like she's holding back tears.

"Bells. What's wrong?" I think I know, but I'm pretty good at denial. And I don't want to think about what or _who_ could have her holding back tears.

She's worrying her lips between her teeth—chewing so hard on it, it's turning white. I'm waiting for her to bite right through it any second. I turn on the step, my knee bending up as I tuck my foot under the outer leg. My hand reaches up to her face and I tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. My thumb traces over her lips and I silently urge her to stop the gnawing.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" I can hear the fear in my own voice. I don't want her to hear it. If I'm about to get my heart broken, I don't want her to realise just how much it will hurt.

She looks at me finally. Those hazelnut eyes are glassy and troubled—and pleading. "Let's get out," she whispers, pulling me up to standing. All this weirdness deflates anything below the waist I had previously been worried about. We wade over to the pool's edge and I trot up the steps, reaching back to take her hand to help her out of the water.

"Let me grab our towels and we can talk. Hey?" I suggest softly. I want to get her out of the public eye; behind closed doors, so all she needs to think about is the guy in front of her. Me.

"Ok," she nods. "Let's do that." She leans her head over to the side and wrings her hair out. I squish mine out as I jog over to where we'd left our towels under the servery. I toss my towel over my neck, shaking hers out and holding it out to drape it over her shoulders.

Looking up, I see Bella still standing at the pool's edge.

She's standing straight upright.

Her hands are limp by her sides as she just stares in front of her.

She's staring… at _him_.

The fucker is back.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2 Edward

**Hey all, thank you so much for all the great reviews. And thanks to everyone who's found this little ditty and is following. And of course to all of you who have followed me from 'Red Robin' and my other one-shots, you're the bestestest. (real word- look it up.) Speaking of made up words. Thanks Aretee for your beta excellence. You're my motivation to keep on writing some days.**

**If any one out there isn't sure. This IS a Jake and Ness story. Only there is a fair bit of Jake/Bella angst in the beginning. Bare with me. We will get there...eventually, just not this chapter... or the next... or the next. **

**All right. Here is the second instalment. It's only short. you may begin to hate Bella after this. Don't. She can't help it that her and the Ed are ment to be.**

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_**Last time on P & C-... **_

_She looks at me finally. Those hazelnut eyes are glassy and troubled—and pleading. "Let's get out," she whispers, pulling me up to standing. All this weirdness deflates anything below the waist I had previously been worried about. We wade over to the pool's edge and I trot up the steps, reaching back to take her hand to help her out of the water._

_"Let me grab our towels and we can talk. Hey?" I suggest softly. I want to get her out of the public eye; behind closed doors, so all she needs to think about is the guy in front of her. Me._

_"Ok," she nods. "Let's do that." She leans her head over to the side and wrings her hair out. I squish mine out as I jog over to where we'd left our towels under the servery. I toss my towel over my neck, shaking hers out and holding it out to drape it over her shoulders._

_Looking up, I see Bella still standing at the pool's edge._

_She's standing straight upright._

_Her hands are limp by her sides as she just stares in front of her._

_She's staring… at him._

_The fucker is back._

_Fuck._

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**Chapter two - Edward.**

Yep, the fuck-tard is back.

And he's standing three feet away from Bella, his hands all lifeless by his sides too. There're both just staring at each other. And I'm rooted to the spot, unable to move as I feel this god awful knot in my stomach clench and twist like a knife, it moves up and into my chest. I can't watch this. It'll fuck me up for life. I just know it will. But the masochist I am can't look away.

He's saying something to her, but the god-dam music is so loud I can't hear what it is. I think maybe it was something like, "are you cold?" 'cause she rubs her hands over her arms and turns to look in my direction. Our eyes meet and the magnets that were holding my feet in place release and I start walking over to her. To both of them.

I drape the towel over her, leaving my hand possessively on her shoulder. He might be the one leaving her speechless right now, but it was _me_ who had her screaming less than three hours ago. And earlier that morning and the day before and the day before that… You get my gist. The douche fucker needs to know he can't just step in on his little sabbatical from college and think he can sweep her back off her feet and then leave her broken and alone again. Not happening on _my_ watch.

I lean my head towards the asshole, my eyes sending him daggers. "Fuck-tard," I say as a form of greeting.

"Black," he replies curtly.

I turn my attention to Bells. I hope beyond all hope that she doesn't want anything to do with her ex and she needs me to give her the _out_ to escape. "You want to get out of here?" P_lease say yes, please say yes, please say yes._

She looks at me. Her resplendent brown eyes are apologetic and regretful. Just as resolute and yet as agonised as I'd ever seen them before. And I know then, that my hopes for her wanting nothing to do with him are dashed. She's still under his spell, even after twelve months of absence and me giving her all that I have.

"I need to talk to Edward first Jake. We still have a lot of things left unsaid." The fucking knife that's still deep in my chest twists again. Burning and making it hard for me to seem like I'm any sort of 'ok' with my girlfriend going off with the guy she thinks she's still in love with. Really. Fucking. Hard.

My mouth is dry and I'm trying hard not to let my eyes water like a pussy.

"Oh yeah, I get it." I say all considerate and trying to be the accepting boyfriend I want her to think I am. "You guys have to talk." I smile and nod. Or at least I _try_ to smile. I probably just took constipated. I'm really trying to be cool about it. Understanding. But no, I don't understand it. What else could she have to say to the fucker? _You fucking broke my heart and left me high and dry. Jake picked up the pieces and now that I'm finally happy you don't get to come back and fuck it all up again._ Maybe she does want to say that to him? Just not in public. That's what I'm going with. She going to serve him a new pair.

Deep down, I know that there is no way that Bella Swan has it in her to serve _anyone _a new pair, let alone her precious Ed-fuck-tard. But what am I gunna do? Have a hissy fit and forbid her from talking to him? Yeah, that'd go down like a sack of shit. I just gotta grin and bear it.

She leans in, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek. I try and turn my head so that or lips meet, but she avoids it, my lips meeting skin just on the edge of her mouth. I'm sure it's blatantly obvious to not just me that she doesn't kiss me properly. I know she knows, from the apologetic pleading set to her eyes. And I know that Fuck-tard knows from the smug little smirk her has on his face. I just want to fucking well smash my fist so hard into that overconfident pretty boy face. Fuck-tard.

"So…. Ummm…. I'm just going to go talk with Edward…. Ok?" she stumbles.

"Yeah. Ok," I smile, all constipated like, "you go sort stuff out. I'll just be around," I say, all cool and nonchalant, gesturing to the entire house. Fucking lame ass I am. Yeah. That's right, Bella. Dumb ass Jake will just wait around the lounge room with the wall flowers until you decide what the hell your gunna do with me. Fucking pathetic.

So I stand there, in soggy, wet, Hawaiian board shorts that my sister sent me last year. My racially stereotypical long black hair is plastered to my fucking forehead. I'm fighting the tears as I watch her walk away. With him. The fucker is so comfortable touching my girlfriend too. His hand is against the small of her back as he leads her away. I hear him say "let's go upstairs, it's quieter," and she nods, already enthralled under his perfect 'first love' spell. I'm going insane. I feel like my bones have turned to jelly and my insides have been set alight. And it hurts so god-dam much.

I know I'm getting away from myself. They're just talking. It's not like she's broken up with me. It's just… you had to see how destroyed she was after he left. It was really _that_ bad. And she's not completely fixed. He left such a gaping big raw hole in her heart. And as much as I'd like to say I have, I _haven't_ been able to fill or fix it. And in a matter of a few words, a 'hello' and a 'can we talk?'. He had. He'd fixed her. And that was agonising. And I see the writing on the wall.

I can feel my eyes start to sting. Pussy. I have to get the hell out of this party. Away from all the others kids from school. I hope to god no one has seen how swiftly I've been dismissed. I quickly dry off my skin and hide my head in the towel as I pretend I'm drying my hair. But really, I'm just making a semi-concealed b-line to the downstairs spare room. As I walked past the stairs, I catch the last glimpse of her legs as they rounded the upstairs landing. This felling my chest hurts so much. Ngh. Heart break mixed in with a good old dose of dread.

I sneak into the room, closing the door behind me and leaning my forehead against the door, eyes closed, forcing the tears at bay. I'm not going to cry over a _maybe_. They are _just_ talking. Officially we're still a thing. For all I know we'll be having the best _crisis averted- make up _sex of our lives in this very room, in half an hours' time. But if _he_ wants her back? Well then... I'm fucked. But not physically...ho, ho, ho- No. Only emotionally, socially and psychologically- not at all in the way my wet dreams generally play out. Yep… Fucked.

"Suck it up Black," I say to myself as I stomp into the bathroom. Wiping a circle of steam off the mirror, I stare at myself, I turn the cold water on full-blast and toss my face with the liquid. I'm still half wet from the pool, put the flowing water is fresh, and it's cleansing and cathartic. I look at myself, like—really _look_. I watch my own eyes staring back at me. They are dark and hurt looking. I want to say they're wet because of all the water I've been splashing, but I know it's the tears that are still threatening. There's a faint shadow of stubble growing on my strong jaw. It's actually about five days' worth of growth—god-dam native genes. Grow hair longer than most girls, but a beard? Na-ha.

My face is still dripping, my eyelashes are clumped and there are a few drops of water on my nose and chin. There's a fluffy white hand towel on the bench and I use it to dry off my face, inhaling the nice floral smell of fabric softer. It smells like girl. It makes me sad.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I'm not gunna cry over this _maybe_. It feels so unfair for him to come back in her life just when things are so good with us. Are my feelings even gunna be considered in all of this ridiculous love triangle that may just be nothing more than a figment of my imagination? I hold on to the hope that they will be. That would really break my heart if she just ran off with him without much more that a second thought for me.

I'm sad but within a blink of an eye I'm angry too. I want to go marching up stairs and interrupt them. Tell her, "It's me or him, Bells. Choose." But even more than angry, I'm shit scared. Terrified of what she might say to an ultimatum and anxious of what I might find if I _do_ go up there. I might find them sprawled out on the bed together, tongues entwined. Or maybe his hands will be all over her boobs—as she dry humps him. Or worse still, them, naked, fucking like bunnies, making up for their last year apart. I want to yak. My imagination is running away from me. My thoughts and emotions are all over the place. My deepest fears feel like they might just be about to come true. I feel utterly hopeless to do a god dam thing about it too. Fuck!

In frustration, I slam my fist against the basin. The cracking sound I hear isn't the porcelain breaking and judging from the pain, I think it might have been my hand. I grab it, clutching it to my chest. "Mother fucking, fucker, goddam, that hurts." I moan, eyes shut tight as I hop around spinning on the spot. My life is up the creek. This night can't get any worse.

"Hey? Are you alright?" comes a little voice from the bedroom.

Now I have an audience for the worst moment of my life.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

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**Let me know what you think chickadees. M**


	3. Chapter 3 The Kid

**Again guys, thanks for all the kind reviews, and welcome to all the new readers and followers... Hi!**

**Aretee thanks again for the Beta.**

* * *

**Last time on P & C's...**

_My imagination is running away from me. My thoughts and emotions are all over the place. My deepest fears feel like they might just be about to come true. I feel utterly hopeless to do a god dam thing about it. Fuck!_

_In frustration, I slam my fist against the basin. The cracking sound I hear isn't the porcelain breaking and judging from the pain, I think it might have been my hand. I grab it, clutching it to my chest. "Mother fucking, fucker, goddam, that hurts." I moan, eyes shut tight as I hop around spinning on the spot. My life is up the creek. This night can't get any worse._

"_Hey? Are you alright?" comes a little voice from the bedroom. _

_Now I have an audience for the worst moment of my life. Fan-fucking-tastic_

**Chapter 3 - The kid**

"Yeah," I say, my voice coming out not much more than I squeak. "I think I just broke my hand." I motion to a kid sitting on the bed. What the hell is she doing in here? She's sitting on top of the bedspread in her pyjamas. They're long grey cotton jersey pants and a baggy black tee shirt. Her hair is wrapped up in a towel like a turban and she's got a mud mask plastered across her face.

There are study books spread out over the yellow and white floral comforter. There's an iPod on the bed too. My eyes trace up along the earphone cable, up to where it splits in two, one to her right ear, the other, she's holding out, her hand motionless mid-air as she looks at me like I might be some kind of psycho.

"Can I help you with something?" she asks like she owns the place.

"Ah. No. I think you're kind of in _my_ room," I say with a little bit of attitude, stepping into the bedroom proper. I know this is more like Bella's room, but my stuff is in here and I need the privacy right now. I don't need any little girl giving me attitude.

My hand is throbbing. My heart might just be about to be broken. The pineapple Daiquiris are starting to take their toll on my sobriety. The last thing I want is any more shit to deal with right now.

Her mud caked eyebrows raise in what I can only describe as scorn. "I'm sorry to disappoint you _buddy_ but I'm most definitely sure _this," _she motions to the area between us, her head doing a little side to side neck thing that girls sometime do_,_ "is _my_ room," she buzzes, taking out the other ear piece and pausing whatever she was listening to. She closes the exercise book in front of her and she shifts off the bed. Her hands slowly move up in to what looks like an aggressive posture, her head tilts to the side, and now she's back on the balls of her feet, her back foot looking like it's ready to pounce. If I didn't know any better, I swear this twelve year old was getting ready to give me a beat down.

"Look kid. I'm not getting into a fight with you about this," I counter, raising my palms up in a placating gesture. Shit it hurts to open my hand. "This is just the room my girlfriend normally stays in when she sleeps over. That's all. I was under the impression that this was where we're sleeping tonight," I say gesturing to the bed separating the two of us.

The room is as mostly quiet, apart from the heavy beat of the party music that's muted through the closed bedroom door. She's got some scented candles burning on the dresser, it lulls the senses along with the subdued lighting. She'd obviously been giving herself a pamper night, (my sisters used to do it all the time) because the atmosphere in here is subdued and relaxed. However, despite all the candles and shit, the tension emanating off this girl is palpable.

I realise suddenly that I've barged in on a girl who's in her pyjamas. Oh shit! I'm in a room, alone, with an unfamiliar girl and I've probably scared the crap out of her. I'm lucky I don't have a face full of mace and my balls kicked in at this rate. "I just needed to get the fuck away from the party. That's all. I'm not some kind of creeper. Promise." I say, trying to reassure her and to save my gonads from imminent attack. I know I shouldn't swear in front of a kid but my ethical filters are severely undermined by all the rum—and by the fact that my girlfriend is currently up stairs alone with her ex.

She looks at me, her gaze searching over me. I feel a little like prey under the eyes of this midget predator. This time only one muddied brow raises. It's freaking me out how she's eye balling me. Who the hell is this kid? Why the hell is she here, alone, in the Cullen's house, the same night Alice is throwing a party? Is she one of our school friend's kid sister? Cause I can bet Alice knows nothing about the kid who's stowed in here.

I wish she would stop staring at me like that. Is she sizing me up? I feel transparent and exposed in front of this child. It's like she's in on a secret I'm not privy to. Like she can see all my fears and doubts. Like a long lost friend who just knows you. Like we've met before.

I go to ask her who the hell she is, but before I can, she smiles at me. And suddenly the foggy tension that was mounting in the room is washed out, like someone's opened a window. A cool, fresh swell of comfort ebbs its way in.

A wave of comprehension washes over her muddied features as she straightens to standing. She's even shorter than I'd assumed originally. I'd say she's five two, or three on a good day—way shorter than Bella anyway.

"Bella," she says, as if she's plucked the word straight out of my head, only, she says it like the name is a foreign curse. She points her finger at me, nodding and grinning as if it all makes sense to her now. "You're Bella's new boyfriend."

Again, I feel like she's in on a secret I'm not sharing in. How the hell does she know who I am? And who the hell is she? I don't really know how to respond to her comment. Was it a question? Or was it an accusation?

"I've heard so much about you," she offers, not giving away any hint of whether or not it's actually a _good_ thing to be me. But it feels like an accusation. She bites her lip between her teeth, trying to supress a smirk. "You know Eddie's home?"

I deadpan her, blinking slowly and purposefully. "Yeah. I know." Again lacing some attitude into my voice. "I'm fucking hiding away at an awesome party, in the kiddie's room, w_ithout_ my girlfriend. Yeah. I know the fuck-tard is home." I spit, with possibly a little too much defensive venom in my voice. It's not the kid's fault Dickward is home. I huff a sigh, remorseful of the way I'm taking to a little kid. "Sorry. I know it's not your fault he's come back."

She shrugs and squishes up her face. The mud mask she's sporting cracks around the edges of her eyes and mouth with the movement. She looks like a wrinkled old lady now. "Actually, it _is_ my fault he's back here tonight. I got him to pick me up from the airport on his way through Seattle. I don't think he was planning on coming home tonight though. And I _really_ doubt he expected to see Bella."

I can see she realizes she's opened a giant can of whoop-ass worms. And I can see her madly trying to back pedal. "I mean—I'm pretty sure he was gunna come back soon anyway. It's just—I- I don't think he planned on there being a p-party going on here tonight. I think he was going to try to avoid _her,_" she blurts, "I mean—not avoid her, as such—only, talk to Alice first, see how she was doing. Maybe call her? Or have coffee."

"Coffee," I breathe, unable to hide the distain in my voice. My head shakes slowly as I sigh in… what? Resignation? No. I'm not ready to give up. But, it's just… as much as I loath to admit it and as lame ass as the quote is… he had her from 'hello'.

He doesn't need the coffee.

"So I'm guessing that the reason you're hiding out here in the 'kiddies' room," she says, mocking me and making quotation marks in the air, "is that my good cousin found your Bella and… what? You're punching helpless vanity units because she dumped you?"

"No!" I reply indignantly. "There just talking." Am I trying to convince her or myself? I can't seem to make eye contact with the kid. I think I'm trying to convince both of us. "As far as I know, we're still together." I take a shaky breath. "She's still my best friend." Again that fucking great big hole in my chest is burning, cauterising its way through as I feel her slipping away. Fuck me, if these tears won't stay the hell away. I shut my eyes, squeezing them tight, willing the salt water away.

"Hey," she offers, moving to sit back down on the edge of the bed, "if she's really your best friend, and even if she does go back to Eddie—she won't do anything behind your back. And I really hope the guy I know Ed to be wouldn't either," she says, stacking up her study books and motioning for me also to sit over on my side. I'll give the kid this, she's trying. It doesn't help though. The idea of them _going for it_ right now, at this very moment, makes my stomach churn. And more so, nothing can eradicate the heart breaking pain of being the runner up, the consolation prize. Of not having her. The hurt of her choosing _him_ over me.

I take her up on her offer though, sitting on the edge of the opposite side of the mattress. I need to sit, all of my energy is going into my emotions and I literally feel weak at the knees from the effort to stay composed. I tuck one foot under me, keeping the other flat on the ground. I studiously study the intricate flower design on the coverlet, chanting within myself the mantra, 'I will not cry, I will not cry.' I find a small piece of fluff on the cotton and force myself to become engrossed on its eradication.

"You're allowed to be upset you know," she declares, breaking me out of my forced concentration. "Edward was a real asshole breaking up with her like he did. Alice told me how freaking messed up she was. He shouldn't just get to waltz back in and say 'I'm sorry' and expect her to not have moved on."

"No, he shouldn't get to just walk right in and slip into place as if the last twelve months never happened, but that exactly what's happening," I say, the water welling in my eyes. I have no filter around this girl, and I find the frank remarks just spewing out of my mouth. "She's never stopped loving him. And if he's here to win her back, then I'm afraid I'm at a severe handicap because, as much as I know she loves me. She's not _in _love with me. I've never truly been in the running." I admit to the stranger sitting across the queen size from me. The dagger in my heart twists as I say the words out loud. The verbalisation making them all the more real and true. I run my hands through my hair, pulling out the elastic band and re-tying it awkwardly at the nape of my neck. My hand is still paining.

"You'er Native American right?" she asks.

I'm taken aback for a moment, the question is so off topic and well, to be honest, pretty direct. I must give her an 'are you crazy?' look because she quickly chirps in with, "I'm not trying to change the subject. Even though that _is_ what I'm doing. It's just that, I… I've never met a _Northern_ American indigenous person," she only stops for a quick breath before continuing on with her spiel.

"My best friend is from Chilli, his native Mapuche. He's a lot darker than you, but your cheeks are more prominent," she burbles, happy to talk about me as if I'm some kind of darn museum display. She must pick up on my discomfort, or the fact that my eyebrows are somewhere up around my hair line. I thought I had no filter around this kid. Seems like the flood gates are open in her direction too.

"Oh god, you must think I'm some kind of bigot, I'm not, honest. My best friend really is Mapauche. It's just that anthropology is kind of like a side hobby of mine. Not that I'll make any kind of career out of it, it's just that I take notice of these kind of things. When you've traveled as much as I have, you get to see the differences and similarities of all kinds if ethnic groups. I can't help it," she explains. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, I just can't seem to stop comment on everything I'm thinking."

Her eyes are pledging, "Some people might find it endearing?" she suggests, trying to hint this is how I take her rant. Her shoulders slump at my silence and I swear I can see the cheeks reddening under the mud mask "but I guess others might find it obnoxious," she adds. Others, as in… _me._

I get it, she's just thinking out loud what any one of us thinks when we meet someone new. I don't mind her comments. Truly. I understand what she means. This girl in front of me, for example, has luscious hazelnut nutella brown eyes, a lot like Bella's but with a few more splintering bursts of honey-yellow radiating out from the center. But I wasn't about to blurb it out to her like she had just done to me. I realize with a feeling of conscience that both of us are guilty of being our own brand of creeper. And I'm letting her think she's insulted me.

"You're not obnoxious," I mollify, "you're just being honest. It's ok. I have cheek bones. I have tanned skin, but I'm not as dark as your friend. They're honest observations. It's ok. I'm not _that_ precious. I've been racially vilified enough times to know when there's no insult intended. Let's just say we both do things without thinking them through and call it even? You comment on a perfect strangers racial variances and I sit on a bed with a totally unfamiliar person while she's in her pj's. See? We're both socially inappropriate." I smile towards her, letting out a very un-Jacob, little girl giggle while I'm at it.

"God you have nice teeth," she says smiling and gushing. And as quickly as she gives the compliment, she moans into her hands that are now covering her face. "Oh god, I can't believe I just said that." she groans.

I can't help but let out a proper laugh at her tween mortification. A deep bellied laugh. One that allows me to forget what propelled me into this room to start with. This girl makes me laugh. It's refreshing. The urge to protect her and care for her is strong too. Maybe I can be a surrogate best friend, apparently I already look kind of like him anyhow.

"Ok, um. Let me think of something to make me even with the whole social inappropriateness thing." I look around the room and my eyes fall to the study books piled between us. One page is open and I can see lines upon lines of hand written notes. All neatly printed in a very tidy and loopy script. "You have very nice hand writing," I offer.

She laughs with a closed mouth, snorting a little and lifting her face from her hands. I can see the clay that's stuck to her fingers, it has transferred as she's hid in embarrassment. She sees the red dirt on her hands and reaches over to the bedside table for some tissues, cleaning the earthen muck off. "I had a governess when we lived in Ukraine. She was a stickler for neat cursive," she explains as she systematically wipes her fingers.

Her statement momentarily distracts me from my inner turmoil. "You've lived in the Ukraine?" Who the fuck lives in the Ukraine?

Shrugging her shoulders, she nods. "Kiev for a few years; when I was eight. And then when I was ten, we moved to Switzerland, and the last two years we've been in Italy." She's quiet for a moment, her eyes unfocused as they take on a far off look. Then with a sharp breath she's back in the room and continuing on her monologue. "Uh… my parents are moving to Qatar this summer… so… I decided to come live here with my aunt and uncle." I somehow doubt this is the whole story, she seems to be trying too hard on the preciseness of her seemingly rehearsed speech. "The international school in Qatar doesn't offer the subjects I want."

"And Forks does?" I ask in disbelief. It isn't lost on me that she mentions her aunt and uncle. Everyone knows everyone in this town, even if you're from La Push—a good fifteen miles away—you know that Alice's mom, Esme, has been complaining that the house will be so empty now that her youngest will be off to college this semester. Looks like the Cullen matriarch isn't going to have an empty house just yet.

I look at the young girl sitting in front of me. I notice some things I didn't before, like the little polo horse and rider embroidered into the cotton of her shirt. She has a shining silver necklace around her neck, the pendant is an angel, diamonds imbedded in its wings. Her nails are manicured, not painted or artificial, they're short and neat and shiny; the kind of nails, I assume, the _haves_ of the world keep. Being a _have not,_ I really don't know for sure. There is a suitcase still in the corner of the room, I don't know much about luggage—having never been outside of Washington State—but it looks expensive. She's just mentioned living in three different countries like it was no big deal. All these little things lead me to one conclusion; this girl's parents are rich. She's lived a gilded life. She's lived in some big cities and in some _big_ houses. She's a typical Cullen. I'll bet my left nut on it.

Yet, here she is, _voluntarily_ moving to the back waters of the country. Who chooses to move to a sleepy little town when they can live in exotic countries and go to international schools? – Whatever the fuck they are. I bet she could go to some expensive preppy boarding school that feeds right into Harvard if she wanted to. But instead, _she's_ chosen—and again, it's not lost on me that she said _she's_ decided to come and stay here; not _sent_ here, offloaded by her career driven parents— she's _chosen_ to attend Forks High School. What's she running from?

"Surprisingly, Forks high _does_ have the subjects I'm interested in," she replies, her eyes darting between mine. There soft and unguarded, yet they're giving me nothing more on the topic. I've decided, there has to be more to this little miniature princess. She has to have a good reason for avoiding an awesome pool party that's being held in the house she's going to be living. Studying and giving herself a facial en lieu of getting to know her future classmates. Not that there are many freshman or sophomores here. Maybe she's just shy. I doubt it. I don't think I would have got the attitude I'd gotten if she was a shy little fourteen year old. Bella's shy—or at least she thinks she is—yet she's never had a hard time talking to me.

Bella. Shit. I'd almost forgotten.

Shit. I felt the burn return to my gut, just under that point where the ribs come together in the center of my chest. I look at my watch. They've been up there for a good half an hour. How long do I give it? My hands clench involuntarily in a fist of frustration. A hiss escapes my lips as the stabbing pain shoots from my knuckle down my wrist.

The kid kneels up on the bed, leaning over to me, "What did you do to your hand?" she scolds as she reaches for my now swelling knuckles. She seizes my fingers with authority yet also concern before I quickly pull them back.

"Nah, it's ok. It's not that bad" I lie, waving her off with my left. Honestly, my right hand freakn' kills. How the fuck am I gunna throw a ball at practice on Monday? I don't need any strange kid pressing on what I'm afraid might be a broken knuckle and making it worse.

She eyeballs me through the unpainted holes of the ochre mask that's dried and cracking on her face. "Let me look," she insists, "My dad's a doctor. And I've helped him out a fair few times," she explains without prompting as she takes my hand again and inspects it. I let her this time. She is sure and confident as she handles my fingers and knuckles with expert dexterity and gentleness. "It's already getting swollen. I think you'd better get some ice on it," she suggests, and presses a little more firmly against the middle knuckle, the one that's sore. I can't help but suck in an involuntarily intake of breath through my teeth. Shit that hurts. The girl frowns a little at my noise, the space between her brows cracking some more with the gesture. "Can you make a fist?" she asks.

I turn my hand over, and try as I might, I can't get the pained middle finger to curl into the palm — that's not good. Both our heads are leaning in as we inspect the injured hand. She looks up at me again, "I think it's broken," she states, all staid and earnest, but I can't take her seriously, my mind immediately imagines she's playing doctor in a backyard play house.

After her diagnosis, I must give her a look of impertinent skepticism because she stops probing it and instead, lightly taps on the offending bone. This sends a splinter of pain right through to the tip of the finger and back up to my wrist. "Oh fuck!" I curse, giving the girl a 'what the fuck?' look of incredulity.

She simply returns my glower with a smirk of righteousness and then repeats her diagnosis. "Yep, it's broken."

I sigh in resignation. This night is just getting crappier and crappier. Having stalled and procrastinated for a good half an hour, I decide I just want to get out of here. And by _here_, I mean this room. I think I'll have a few straight rums for the pain and then procrastinate a bit more—for at least another ten minutes—before deciding to go upstairs to get Bells. Oh god, what's taking her so long? I can't stand the thought of what they're doing up there. Maybe I'll see if the kid wants to go up for me. I'll give her some pocket money.

Her hand is still flat underneath mine. Holding it up, mid-air between us. "This is kind of like how Prince Charming might have taken Cinderella's hand," She giggles, breaking me out of my thoughts as she makes to do a play curtsey. "Only, your hand is broken and about four times larger than mine," she smiles, looking up at me. The grin she gives me makes the cracks in her dried mask now break into tiny pieces that are falling off, onto the bedspread.

She sees the mess it's making on the white cotton and she rushes to standing, jumping up and making to bound off over the bed. "Oh shit. I forgot to wash this off!" she yells as I move to get out of her way. Unfortunately for me, her knee clips my sore hand as she fumbles off the mattress on my side of the room and she continues to tumble over to the far wall, like Scooby-doo midair. She crashes in to the wall and ends up in a half crouch—half fallen stance, braced sideways against the plasterboard. It would be comical to see if it didn't hurt my knuckle so much.

Holding my sore hand to my chest, I take the two steps to help her up. She takes my hand and promptly she's back to standing. A static electricity zap getting my palm. She looks obviously discombobulated and embarrassed. So young. She _is_ a tiny thing. Up close I'd say she could easily fit under my arm. The little sister I've never had. "You ok?" I ask, giving her upper arm a friendly and supportive squeeze. She smiles a tight lip smile and nods mutely.

I look at her, scrunching my face up, "I'd give that dismount a seven point five," I tease, hoping to ease some of her embarrassment. She closes her eyes as if willing me—the witness to her humiliation—to just _go_. Fine, I get the hint. I remember how awkward life was at that age. "It wasn't _that_ embarrassing kid. I think _my_ little tantrum that resulted in me braking my hand was _waaay_ worse." I smile.

She seems slightly liberated by my efforts and happy for the subject change. "I think you should get that x-rayed," she says, shimming towards the bathroom. "And you shouldn't drive either. It's dangerous." She's right. And, oh shit. I just realized. We came here in Bella's truck. If she's dumping my ass how the hell am I getting home?

Fuck this night.

I'd better call Quil.

But first I'm gunna have a few heavy spirits.

The kid has edged her way into the bathroom and I can see she's trying out the hot water at the sink. "Hey kid," I say, as I stick my head in the doorway and meet her gaze in the mirror, "thanks for looking at my hand… and for not screaming bloody murder when I charged in before. I'm just gunna go and see what the verdict is." I say, looking up to the ceiling and the bedrooms rooms above, with my hand over my heart for further clarity.

One of her hands is adjusting the faucet temperature while the other is wetting a wash cloth. She looks back at me, holding my gaze as the tap is abruptly switched off and the washer is rung out.

"No worries," she says, lifting her chin towards my reflection. I see a look in her eye. Disappointment? Hurt? Embarrassment? I can't tell. I decide it's just the residue of her embarrassment from the awesome display of her gymnastic prowess. She spreads out the flannel, layering it across her face and begins to wipe. It's like a curtain has gone up. Eye contact has been clipped. It's like I'm not there.

I've been dismissed.


	4. Chapter 4 An Act of Kindness

_**Thank you so much Aretee for the Beta. I know how much you hated Bella through these chapters. Each little comment of loathing made me giggle.**_

_**I hope you guys like a drunk Jake. For the record folks, it's really hard to write inebriation in the first person ,with out its sounding like garbled rubbish.**_

_**I hope I brought in the levity I was aiming for while still showing Jacob's breaking heart.**_

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_**Last time on P &C'S...**_

_The kid seems slightly liberated by my efforts and happy for the subject change. _

_"I think you should get that x-rayed." She says, shimming towards the bathroom to wipe of her mud mask. "And you shouldn't drive either. It's dangerous." _

_She's right. And, oh shit. I just realized. We came here in Bella's truck. If she's dumping my ass how the hell am I getting home? _

_Fuck this night._

_ I'd better call Quil. _

_But first I'm gunna have a few heavy spirits..._

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**Chapter Four – An act of kindness**

So I'm up to my third tequila. It's been a half hour since I left the hidey-hole of the kid's room. That makes it one hour that Bella has been upstairs now. Three tequilas in half an hour? Not too bad for a sorry-ass high school senior drinking alone in the Cullen's TV room as some of last year seniors play x-Box, you say? Ugh. I forgot to mention the last quarter of the rum bottle that was hidden under the daiquiri machines. That was gone in the first ten minutes.

Thankfully, I managed to text Quil before I got too drunk. It's about a thirty minute drive from his place. Which is about four houses down from mine. He should be here any minute now. Maybe he can help me pass the time waiting for Bella to be done. Or maybe I'm sick of waiting and we'll just go home. I can't decide. I'll let Aterra choose. Somehow I doubt he'll be rushing away from girls in bikinis.

The tequila bottle is far fuller that the rum bottle was and I still have over half of it left. I'm talking like the bottle is mine. I have no idea who it belongs to. I found in in the freezer. Finders' keepers.

I've decided—as of now—that the shot glass is a waste of time and slugging directly from the bottle is a far more efficient way to inebriate one's self. And also, _this_ way I don't have to use my most likely broken right hand at all. I pour the last shot, I've end up spilling more on the coffee table than in the glass. Hey, don't judge—it's hard poring with your left hand.

So, with my new dispensing method in place, I take another slug. I rest the bottle against my chest as it traces the burn of the liquor on its way down. I rest my head against the back of the sofa, closing my eyes and letting out a quiet sigh. I know this is a shit way to deal with pain, either physical or emotional but it's all I got right now. It's not like I have any friend I can talk to right now. My best friend is the direct cause of the pain—the emotional pain, the physical is all on me— and the other friend other is still on his way. And Emb is in PA tonight on some hot date with a Makah girl he met at some summer tutoring program. Lucky fucker.

I feel the seat next to me dip, another person's presence felt, but I don't bother to look. I know it's Quil. I blindly offer him the bottle. The noise of the liquid as it sloshes turbulently against the glass, a testament to just how unsettled I feel inside.

"Thanks for coming man. I fucking broke my fucking hand and Bella is fucking upstairs taking to Edward and I hope to fucking hell they're not fucking." There isn't a reply and the offered bottle isn't taken. I pull it back against my chest like a child who has changed his mind about sharing. I guess he _is _driving.

"Here," comes a small and kind voice from the spot where Quil should be. I open my eyes quickly, coming to a more upright seat and turning to the source of the voice that is most definitely not Quil Ateara. I know his voice is not completely broken, we give him enough shit for it, but this voice was most certainly of the _female_ persuasion.

That quick movement sends my head in to a spin though and it takes me a moment of opening and closing my eyes before I can focus on the chick next to me. I realize, as my eyes finally begin to come into focus, that it's the little girl who's sitting next to me; the kid from what I _though_ was my room. She's all cleaned up now. Her wet hair is brushed back in to a bun, she has real clothes on and there isn't a spec of mud on her face. She holding out a bottle of water, waiting for me to take it. This small act of kindness she's offering me is very welcoming. It's exactly what a sober, happy Jake would have told himself to do. But I just couldn't find the will power to stop the self-intoxication tonight. Fuck. That's a scary thought. Where does the line of alcoholism and depression and stupidity meet? Somewhere around one or two more slugs of that coveted bottle, I'd say.

I can't hold both the tequila and the water bottles though—the hand, remember? So I gingerly tuck the Mexican bottle under my arm and move to take the water from her. Then she takes the alcohol from my armpit and lightly places it on the table in front of us. She seems distracted by the puddled mess of spirit I've left on the gloss veneer for a moment, before she turns her head to face me. She tilts her head to the side, her lips tight as she smiles a lopsided grin, her lips tucked up into her mouth. This look of disapproval form a twelve year old is most disconcerting and confronting. I should give her more credit for maturity though. Seeing her for the first time without wet volcanic dirt caked on her face, I'd have to say she's probably closer to fourteen rather than twelve. She _did_ say she's going to Forks _High_ School. Either way, she's still well and truly in the little sister age bracket.

Those masks really do wonders for her nonetheless. Her skin is seriously, like porcelain. It's like, perfect. Bella's skin is pretty much flawless but this… this kid has unadulterated, perfect skin. I know I'm staring but I just don't seem to give a damn. It's like cream colored glass—no—it's like one those freaky dolls that my aunt keeps on her spare bed. I wonder if it feels as smooth as it looks. I'm about to lift my good hand up to touch her cheeks when she points at me.

"Drink," she orders, unscrewing the cap for me and urging the bottle to my lips. I'm kind of glad she did that, firstly because, I don't think I could have found the required co-ordination to unscrew the top and secondly, I was a movement away from stroking the cheek of a minor. Yeah. Should have stopped at the rum. Way to go Black. Show the kid how well the Indian can hold his liquor. Cliché much?

So under her direction, I take a sip of the water. She's watching me as I do, her eyes taking in the damaged state I must be in. I have my fill of the sobering water and hand the bottle back over to her. She takes it graciously and screws the lid back on, looking up at me through some seriously long lashes.

"So I take it my cousin and your girlfriend haven't made it down stairs to put you out of you misery yet?" she asks, leaning over to place the water on the coffee table. It's not lost on me that she has the tequila bottle at the far end of the table and the water easily with in my reach. This kid is good.

"Nope." I answer her, popping the p. "Still waiting for the guillotine to fall."

"This waiting must suck for you." Her cheeks are taking on this light rosy pink. It's pretty on her. Not the crazy blush that Bells gets, but a blush all the same. Bella. No matter how much more I drink, nothing is going to make this waiting any easier.

"You think I should go up and see what's taking them so long?" I ask, as I make an idiotic drunken attempt to get off this incredibly soft yet deep sofa.

With no more than a single finger she presses into my chest and pushes me back down. "No. That would be a very bad idea." Her head shaking at me like I'm an idiot. "You don't want to interrupt them if they're breaking up or whatever they'd be doing and you _really_ don't want to interrupt them if their _making_ up."

Oh shit. She's so right. Stupid know-it-all kid. If Bella's telling Dickward to get lost as we speak, I could tip the odds against me; and if they're fucking—which I really hope they're not—I'll be scared for life. And then I remember a thought I had earlier. "_You_ don't want to go up and see what's happening for me, do you?"

"Ah, No."

"It was worth asking you at least."

She shifts in her seat, moving to sit a little closer to me and further in. "Jacob, you…you've just got to be…patient. I'm sure it's pure torture. But…well… if she's really so special, she's worth the wait. And if you don't get the answer you want, then maybe you weren't meant to be…or something." She shrugs looking vacantly towards the wall like she's taking from experience.

I look at her again. I swear she's barely fourteen but she's talking like a divorced thirty something. What is her deal? She's an enigma. Pretty, jail bait enigma, but an enigma nonetheless. She's not dressed for a tropical hideaway pool party _at all _either_, _she's got on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a barbed wire candle across it and on her feet are chucks. I've just realized she has a massive rack under that t-shirt and in the complete inebriated state I'm in, I just can't stop looking at them. They're huge. Ok. They're not _that_ big. But this chick is tiny. She's smaller than Alice and Alice _is,_ or should I say, _was _the smallest chick I know, the kid now has that title. And on her tiny frame they look huge. And I can't stop looking. And they're way bigger than Bella's. Oh Fuck. Bella. And that god-damned knife in my chest twists again.

But those tits are so round. Suddenly, I have a hand snapping fingers in front of my face. I blink in reflex and my eyes shoot up to the face of the owner of clicking fingers.

"Yeah, that's better. Eyes up here," she scolds, directing two fingers towards her own eyes. Oh fuck. I've been sprung. "I'll let that pass because you're so drunk. Drunk off your ass, cause of your _girlfriend _I might add." She shifts back to sitting straight on the sofa and crosses her arms across her chest. Completely blocking my view.

Why the hell would she cover up a rack likeight that? If I was a chick and I had a set on me like that, I'd be parading around that outside deck in a skimpy two piece with those puppies on show. Who am I kidding? If I was a chick with a rack like that I'd never leave the front of a mirror.

I'd at least _be_ at the party though. Not hiding out doing homework. Does she think she's she too cool for the party? I didn't get that vibe from her. But you never know with these rich types.

Or is she too shy? She can't be _that_ shy if she's calling me out on being a perv.

Like a light bulb moment, even amidst the hazy sea of rum and tequila, I realize how unnerving it might it be to rock up to a pool party not knowing a single person. Anyone except for your crazy cousin who is too busy playing host and sucking face with your other cousin's friend—yeah, I saw Alice all over that guy who showed up late. Emmitt's cowboy friend from Texas—and the third 'douche' cousin is locked up in his bedroom with his ex while the ex's current boyfriend is charging into your room. No wonder she's in jeans and a t-shirt. It's enough to make you want to have a drink.

_Right_, I think, sitting up and reaching for the tequila. That's it. I've decided. I'm gunna be this little girlie's friend. She slaps my hand away from the bottle only to thrust the water into it. I go to look at her chest again, it's like my eyes have mind of their own. But I can't, I can't look at her boobs any more cause she's my little sister slash friend. I try to undo the cap and she unscrews it for me. I take a healthy gulp of the water as a toast to my new decision to befriend … ahhh… oh shit, I don't even know her name. Some friend slash big brother I am.

"I'm Renesmee," she smiles, a chuckle percolating in that chest I cannot look at. What the fuck? Did she just read my mind?

"No you drunken fool. You're thinking out loud"

"Oh." oh shit. I give her my left hand to shake, my right is still too freak'n sore "I'm Jacob but you can call me…"

"Jake! What the fuck happened bro?" I look up to see my boy Quill strutting up towards us, little Seth Clearwater tagging up behind.

"Hey man. I don't know what the hell's happening. They're still upstairs," I say. I may as well be saying they're on a romantic dirty sex holiday in Tuscany I lace so much contempt into the words.

"Shit, how much have you drunk?" he asks, picking up the bottle still on the far end of the table and inspecting it's volume.

"Too much," girlie pipes in. "The idiot seems to think that being too drunk to stand will somehow make him more appealing to Bella if she in some way needs to decide between him or Edward.

I can see Quill's attention is now to the girl next to me—my water offering task-master. I don't like the way he's appreciating her either. And what the fuck? Seth hasn't taken his eyes off her since they got here too.

Quill turns on the ladies charm that works on no one. "We'll I don't think we've met. I'm Quil Ateara the fifth," he says all suave, reaching out his hand to shake.

"And I'm Seth," shouldering Ateara to get to the forefront. It could all be pretty funny if it didn't make me want to growl at them. This kiddie is my little friend to defend. I'm not letting my life long deviant friend on to her. Maybe Seth, they're probably the same age. That might be ok. But on second thoughts. No. I don't want her shaking hands with either of them.

I shift on the leather seat, leaning over the girl a little. "This is…what was your name again? I forget. Something really long and not normal."

She turns to me, her arm coming around my shoulder to steady me. Lucky 'cause I think I'm just about to topple over in my seat. She laughs out loud. "Well. Tell us what you _really_ think Jacob."

I shoulder shove her—too drunk to be really embarrassed about my appraisal of her name—easily falling into the support of her little body. I bet these tits would make great pillows. I'm so tired. I can feel my eye lids getting heavy. The booze finally catching up with me. Maybe I'll just rest on this pillow.

"Jake." I hear my name being called up from across the room. My head snaps up and I look over Quill and Seth, who are laughing their asses off—oh shit, I was thinking out loud again—to see Bella standing at the bottom of the stairs looking over to me. I scamper to get up off the couch. A grunt of effort escaping my lips. I feel girlie—I can't remember her name—pushing her hands in to my back to help me up. I make to step over to Bells, stumbling on the coffee table. I catch my foot on girlie's and almost fall back on the sofa. I would have landed on her lap if I hadn't caught myself at the last second. I'm back up to standing. Shit it's hard to stand with the floor moving so much. Before I can move or fall over again, Bella is standing in front of me.

"Are you drunk?" she questions, looking at me shocked—as if me drinking is _that_ out of character—and then eyeballing my friends like it's their fault.

I mean. Come on. We've all had our fair share of booze before. And what about the pineapple daiquiris? Bells was well on her way to drunk town before the 'dick' showed up. Oh. I get it. She's all mature and responsible after an hour with Mister 'just say no' perfect pants now.

And just like that, I've had enough of this shit, coming second to the rich, connected white guy. If I want to get plastered off my face. I will.

"Am I drunk? Well by-golly, yes I am," I say plopping ungraciously back down on the seat. Ha! Take that Bells. I don't know why I'm being an asshole about this now that she's here, considering I've drunk myself into a stupor all pining and heartbroken over her this last hour.

"I want to talk to you Jake, we need to talk about this. Are you too drunk for me to have a serious conversation with?" she's glaring at me with daggers.

"I don't know Bella. I guess it depends on just how long this conversation is going to go for?" She's kind of got my back up. Her tone in a little accusing and I feel like I've lost all the power in our relationship right now. I don't really mean to be sarcastic but it's not fair that she gets to call all the shots and I just come running like a little dog when she whistles.

"Look Jake. I really want to talk, but if you're going be an ass about it I won't bother."

Ahh shit. Now she's all pissed at _me. _So much for the upper hand. But she's the one hiding out in a bed room with her ex for half the night!

I shouldn't have sat back down. I'm at a height disadvantage. This must be what it's like for the short girlie all the time.

I can feel a warm little leg pressed up against mine. And it suddenly becomes apparent how this must look to Bella…me and what's her name squished up together on the sofa. Yep. Miss faithful Bella is taking it the wrong way. I can practically see her turning green. Ha. Bit of you own medicine hey Swan?

Fuck Jake, I think to myself. Where's this bitterness coming from? You _want_ Bella to want _you. _ Not the Ed. Don't make her regret choosing you or even worse, make it easier for her to break your heart. I give myself a mental slap. And sober myself up a bit.

Bella is looking between me and the girlie I'm pressed up against, silently asking me what's going on. Before I can make introduction—which, by the way, would still be one sided cause I still can't remembered her name—Bella chimes in, her glare now directed to the kid. "This is an invitation only party."

Girlie stands up and leans over the coffee table, picking up the half empty bottle of tequila and screwing the discarded top on. "Well it's lucky I'm on the VIP list then isn't it?" she smiles, not a single hint of irritation in her tone. I'll give the girl this, she's got class. She could have gotten all up in Bella's face from her accusatory words, but she just laughs it off.

I brace my hands on my knees and bring my swaying body to standing. Now all five of us are standing around the living room. The guys playing the x-Box start to yell at us to get out of their way of the TV.

The kid turns, placing the plastic water bottle in my hand as she moves towards the kitchen, "here Jacob, drink this and go talk to your girlfriend. I'll get your friends something to eat. You want something too? You should eat after all that booze." Wow, that really is quite nice of her. My stomach _is_ starting to churn a little. I skipped dinner in lieu of fucking Bella in the bathroom. And a sandwich would be really good right now.

"**I** can get him something to eat," Bella snaps. "I've made more food in this house than you've had hot dinners."

It's weird to see Bella on the defensive for once. It should have been a huge turn-on but all it does right now, is remind me of the reason why she _has _spent so much time in this house and the reason we _have_ to talk. Edward.

And anyway, she doesn't need to be jealous of the kid. And she doesn't have to be so sharp either. I'll admit, the jealousy bolsters my hope a bit though. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her in close to my side. I look down into her eyes, a questioning smirk forming on my lips. She looks back at me, the green eyed monster giving me an incredulous look. Even in my drunk state I can see she sees the kid as a challenger. But really, there's not any competition.

"Come on Bells? You're not jealous of a little kid? She's twelve." I say quietly to Bella, grinning that cheeky grin I know she loves down at her and bringing the beginnings of a smile to my girl's lips too. I glance over at the kid in question and catch a look I don't understand flash across her china doll features. As much as I'd love a sandwich right now, I don't want to give Bella any more wrong ideas. I'm starting to get anxious about what she wants to tell me. To find out just where this relationship of ours is going.

"I don't think I could stomach any food right now," I lie, "I don't need your help. Bella's here for me." I'm colder to the girl than I probably need to be. She's been nothing but nice to me this past hour. But I've got to convince Bella I'm here for the long run and committed to her, to us. The kid doesn't answer me, instead, just turns and moves into the kitchen, my two friends following her like bees to honey.

Quill turns to me, "you still want a lift?" he asks. I don't know the answer to that. I turn to Bella for a hint. She looks at me with the best poker face I think she's ever mustered in her life. That scares the shit out of me. Eventually, she nods and my heart feels like it's about to fracture and I'm sober as a judge now.

I'm chewing on the inside of my cheek and I pause for a sec to compose myself. All three of them are looking silently at me from behind the kitchen island counter. I smile at them, I'm pretty sure it's that constipated smile again. "Yeah. I'll…I'll just be a bit. You guys right to wait?"

"Sure man," Quill replies. The look of pity on all three of their pairs of eyes too much. My eyes meet my new young new friend's and it's as if the pain in me is mirrored in her eyes, there glassy and tumultuous. I feel bad for dismissing her so easily before. But right now, I'll do anything to make Bella happy and mine.

I force myself to turn away. I think the front porch swing is as good a place as any to have this conversation. As we're walking away, I can hear Seth, he's asking the kid if she's really twelve. Maybe I wasn't as quiet as I thought I'd been. There is a moment of silence before a soft, wounded sounding "no" is answered.

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**Thanks folks, I hope to update again this weekend.**

**As always, thanks for all of you who reviewed last chapter. **

**Ciao, Marina.**


	5. Chapter 5 The swing

**Thanks ou all for all the kind reviews. There were a few of you who reviewed as Guest so I'll take this opportunity to thank you here, seeing as I can't PM you... Thanks.**

**And Aretee- thankyou. I know how much you hated all the angst in this chapter. Most of you readers will too. But bare with me... Please. Il'l make it worth your while. I promise. Just think of it as angsty foreplay ;-D**

**Happy weekend! Marina**

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**Last time on P & C's...**

"_Come on Bells? You're not jealous of a little kid? She's twelve." I say quietly to Bella, grinning that cheeky grin I know she loves down at her and bringing the beginnings of a smile to my girl's lips too. I glance over at the kid in question and catch a look I don't understand flash across her china doll features. As much as I'd love a sandwich right now, I don't want to give Bella any more wrong ideas. I'm starting to get anxious about what she wants to tell me. To find out just where this relationship of ours is going… _

…_I think the front porch swing is as good a place as any to have this conversation. As we're walking away, I can hear Seth, he's asking the kid if she's really twelve. Maybe I wasn't as quiet as I thought I'd been. There is a moment of silence before a soft, wounded sounding "no" is answered._

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Chapter 5 – The Swing

We're sitting out on the front veranda of casa Del Cullen. The fairy lights hanging from the roof are transitioning through the rainbow, a hypnotic kaleidoscopic like a countdown to the demise of my relationship with Bella Swan. We're sitting on the double swing that's in the far corner of the porch. Side by side, a good three inches of space between us. May as well be a couple of yards she seems so far away. We're sitting straight on the old wicker chair, my feet are flat on the ground as hers pretty much hang, one toe just reaching to the ground. I can hear the slight creak of the swing as the chain squeaks over its holding. The tequila is still swimming in my brain and even the slight sway we have going is almost too much. Almost.

What _is_ too much, is her silence. We've been sitting out here, listening to the splashes, the squeals and the music from the party out back for several minutes. And she hasn't said a word. It's too much, it's killing me.

"Just do it Bells," I sigh, "just rip the Band-Aid off." My mouth is dry and it makes a sick sticking noise as I try to swallow my tongue.

"Oh Jake," she cries, tucking one foot under her and turning to me on the soft seat. Her arm wraps around me from the front, her little hand flat and fanned out across my middle. It's comforting and, at one time, it would have been a little suggestive. But tonight it feels cold and contaminated. I know she's been touching _him_ with that same hand. "It's not what you think," she says, leaning over so her face is in front of mine.

I can choose to turn my head and not look at her, or shift my eyes down to hers. I'm an idiot. I look at her. At her dark chocolate eyes. And they're starting to get blurry. The vision of her face is getting washed out and shimmery from the traitorous tears that I can feel stinging my eyes. I look up to the overhang, not letting myself get trapped by those bittersweet, coco eyes. I'm not that much of a masochist. And a man has to have some pride. Even though it feels like I left my nads back by the frozen daiquiri machine. Damn Pineapple.

"Jake," she whispers, her fingers lightly coming up to cup around my cheek, a finger wiping the one stray tear that I couldn't rein back in. "Jake, you're my best friend, you really are. I don't want to ever hurt you. I told him that."

My blurred eyes flick back down to hers, and I feel the slightest glimmer of hope from her words.

"I like what we have. It's good." My ribs get a little nudge, and I flinch involuntarily from the contact. I'm waiting for the "but…"— I don't have to wait long.

"But I love Edward too," she says in a barely audible voice after a few breaths. "And I'm so confused. He hurt me so badly, Jacob. So badly. And you've never hurt me. I don't think you could," she adds as an offhand thought. No. I couldn't Bella, I couldn't hurt you. "And he wants me back, Jacob, he want us to get back together. He said he was just trying to let me have a good life. Not get stuck in a long distance relationship at eighteen. He says he made a mistake. That he still loves me, that he never stopped loving me."

She pauses, and the swing creaks a little louder, kind of like the guillotine before it falls from its tied up perch. It reminds me of that French revolution movie Mrs Richey showed us in history class. That blade just hanging there as the poor bastard lays himself out, resigned to his fate, exposed, waiting for the fall. Making peace with his lot. I feel exposed, resigned, trying to make peace with my lot—but failing. My eyes are closed. I can't bear to risk looking at her as she does this. Her eyes will only intensify my pain… and hers.

"But I know you love me too. And you need to know that I do love you," she says.

There is nothing but silence between us, the creaking of the swing, the muffled base of the party music, the sound of her breathing, the sound of my hope swelling. "But I still love him too," she whispers.

The sharp metallic sound of the severing blade as it falls echoes inside my mind.

I hear the conflict and confusion in her voice. I can tell she wants me to hear her, needs me to hear, but hating her own partitioned feelings all at the same time. It has me turning on the seat, my knees press onto hers. She's looking out over the railing, to the sea of crappy second hand cars lined up, which are the only kind that high school kids can afford—unless you're a Cullen.

She has a beautiful profile. Her little nose is just right on her fine features. Her skin is changing colours as the little lights above us transition thorough their spectrum. The glow is a pink now, high-lighting her lips that are just slightly parted, almost turned downwards as she gazes out. She looks especially beautiful when those lips smile. She doesn't smile enough. The colour flashes to blue. She's not smiling now.

"You love me?" I ask, unable to hide the tentative smile in my voice. I know she just told me she loves him still. It wasn't lost on me. It hurts to hear her say it aloud, but it's nothing I don't already know. I've known all along. But it is the first time she's told me she loves me since we've been together. I want it to mean as much to her, as it does to me. _**I**_ want to mean as much to her as _she_ does to me. Or at least as much as _he_ means to her.

"I don't know if I love you in the same way as him," she says, still looking out over the front yard. "I love Edward like that intense, hot blue flamed fire that flashes and leaves a mark on anything it touches. But I love you in the slow, stoked up kind of fire that keeps you safe and warm and comfortable." Her fingers, cool and thin, lace though mine as she turns to look me in the eye. She's taken hold of up my sore hand, the knuckle hurts to widen for her fingers, even as thin as they are. She doesn't notice the involuntary wince I make as I try to curl my fingers around hers. Despite the pain, I can't help but give her hand a squeeze and look right back at her.

"As easy as breathing Bells," I say. Just like I've said to her a hundred times before.

She nods. She knows it's true. But the heart and the mind are two very different things. It's a no brainer that I'm what's best for her, logically, if she's using her brain. But, she's a girl who follows her heart; and I don't know if I have quite enough of her heart for it to be enough. Not quite enough. Not that blue fire that burns hot. I'm just comfortable. Safe.

"Are we breaking up?" I have to know. All this, 'I love you', and 'intense love' and 'comfortable love'—It's not what I have to know. I need it straight. No holds barred.

She looks at me. Gnawing away on that bottom lip like it's a piece of tough fucking beef jerky. Just rip the god damned Band-Aid of Bella. "Are we?" I prompt again.

"I don't know what I want," she whimpers out in one breath. "I love you both. I want you both."

"You can't have us both."

"That's what he said."

Finally, the Ed and I agree on something.

"I just… I can't make this decision right away," she stumbles, "I have to think about it. I don't want to hurt either of you. I don't want to lose you Jake." The tears are in her eyes now. I hate to see her cry. I want to give her comfort. Tell her it's all going to be alright. Tell her that she'll never loose me.

But I won't lie to her.

I don't see how we can be friends again if she chooses him.

I want to hold her as her tears start to fall. I can give her this much. So I do. Unwrapping my hand from its grasp on hers, I pull her in against my chest. My good hand clinging to the lifeline of the chain of the swing, the broken one wrapping around her shoulders as they jerk with each sob.

She lets out her tears. But I can tell she doesn't purge it all. She's holding that for when she's alone later. She needs to be alone to figure this out. Decide what she wants. I get that. She can't think straight when we're right in front of her. So I hold her, rubbing small circles on her back.

After a while, I can't help but lean my head in to smell the scent of her strawberry shampoo. Only, tonight, her hair smells like chlorine and a men's cologne that isn't mine. I guess it's _his_. It stands to reason that they could have hugged. I feel deflated thinking about her seeking comfort in his arms. He probably feels the same thinking about me comforting her right now. I don't want to give a shit about his feelings. But I care about Bella. And if hurting _him_ will hurt her, I can't help but care about his feelings. This is so fucked up.

My chest feels like it's being shovelled out. Emptied by everything that's happened tonight. Ever since the douche showed up, I've sat and waited, patiently. Drunkenly. But patiently nonetheless. I want to give her everything. But I feel like there's not much of me left to give right now. As the booze bottle emptied, so too have my emotional reserves. And as I give her this support as she's crying over me—and over another man—I'm just about running on E. That warning light is flashing.

Finally, she sits back, out of my arms. She lifts her shirt, wiping her face, blotting her tears on the grey cotton. She's changed into a t-shirt and shorts. They're miles too big on her. I realise suddenly that they're the Ed's. She's wearing his clothes. This does not bolster my confidence. In fact this little thing breaks my heart. It is the thing that makes me crack and fracture. My tank is now empty. I've stalled. I've got nothing left to give her tonight.

"So where does this leave us Bells? I take it you don't want to come down to the beach with us tomorrow?" We _had_ planned on having a picnic lunch with just our close friends tomorrow. Before college starts and school goes back. Have a swim. Just hang out on the beach. Alice and Emmett. Quill. Embry. Maybe Emb was gunna bring his new girl if his date went well. Me and Bells. Only now I don't think there _is_ a 'me and Bells'.

She scrunches her face and there's a small shrug with one shoulder. "I think I need to spend tomorrow alone. Not with Edward _or_ with you. Maybe on Sunday you can come down when your dad comes over for the game," she offers, a pitied and placating look on her face. I feel like she's throwing me a bone. But there is no intention of actually feeding and keeping this kicked down, stray dog.

I don't acknowledge her offer, I might go with dad to her place, but it's not the point, she's deflecting my question. "So are we breaking up?" I will not cry, I will not cry.

I know she can see the torture in my eyes. "I don't know what this is." She scrunches her eyes, shaking her head in uncertainty. "I don't _want_ to break up with you Jake. But maybe… we need to cool things though? Until I figure stuff out?" the words come as a question but I know they're rhetorical.

My good hand unwinds from its death grip on the swing chain and it reaches gently to the side of her neck. My thumb draws a line along the velvet skin of her jaw, along the soft crease of her lips. I want to leave her with a goodnight kiss. Just a small reminder of what it is she might be giving up. I lean in, but my movement is halted by a sharp intake of air, a slight shake of her head. A refusal.

"I think we should cool thinks Jake. No sex, no hand holding. No… kissing. It's not fair to you, to him; to any of us."

"So what? We're just friends again? I'm supposed to just let you go?" _Because I can't do that_, I think to myself. She knows it anyhow. The rejection stings like a bitch too.

"I need to… oh, I don't know. It's…I can't do this to you both. I can't… I can't ask this of you," she cries, pulling away and burring her face in her hands. I know Bella. I know her better than anyone on this Earth. She's torn, and whatever she wants, she doesn't want to tell me. I know she honestly doesn't want to hurt me—or him. But I can't see a way out of this without one of us getting hurt.

"Do what Bella? Just fucking-well tell me. I know you. You might not know _who_ you want just yet. But there's something. There's something you _do_ want," I say, trying to hide the caustic edge to my voice that I'm feeling. The angst, the alcohol and the indecision pushing me. "Just spit it out!" I hiss through gritted teeth.

"I want both of you," she shrieks out suddenly, "I want to _be _with both of you. I need… I _want_ to see both of you at the same time," she cries, frustrated with her own flagrant words. "Compare," she says in nothing more than a mumbled whisper, the look of shame written across her features.

She looks up at me, the tears glistening at the edges of her eyes, vexation and anger entwined with guilt preventing the precipice spill. "I want to still see you, but I need to still see him. I need to get to know him again. You and me, Jake. We've always been friends. But Edward and I…we aren't friends. We skipped that bit and went straight to lovers."

"So what? You want my permission to two time?" I ask, shaken and hurt but somehow, not surprised. It's what she'd been alluding to the entire conversation.

She cringes at my appraisal of the situation. "Come on Jake. I'm trying here. Really I am. Let's make it more like, we're just not exclusive for a bit."

"So basically a break up, but you're not cutting me free," I clarify, the acid in my tone painful to even my ears.

"You're free. You can hook up. I'll be honest and tell you I'd rather you didn't. But I'm not gunna stop you. If you meet someone, you're free to see where it goes. No guilt. No labels."

"No guilt? Is this what this is? Your ticket to guilt-free sex with _him_?" I scream, pointing to inside the house. I sit back and pull my body and my comforting arms away from her.

"No Jake! No sex."

"What? Just the bases?" I scoff, looking down at my rough swollen hand, picking at a callous on my palm. It fucking hurts to touch.

She's silent for a beat, "maybe." I look up at her, I can't even begin to mask the betrayal and slight revulsion that must be etched across my face. This just seems so unfair, she wants to be free to round the basses with him but I don't get a simple comforting, soothing kiss? I feel like making her kiss me, just to prove a point. But right now, with the way I'm feeling, I don't want her lips anywhere near mine.

"But you'd be free to do whatever you want with whoever you want too," she says, as if that makes it all ok. As if I could feel for someone else the way I feel about Bella.

There will never be another Bella.

But apparently _I'm_ a dime a dozen.

I want to puke. Is this worse than a breakup? Being strung along?

She's leaving for college in a week. We only have seven more days together. And then she's gone. A full twelve hours drive from me. After that, she'll only be home for the holidays and breaks. And she wants me to share her for our last few days?

I feel the churn in my stomach. It's not imagined. I'm actually gunna yak. Before I'm sick on Bella, I'm up, off the porch, down the steps and I'm fertilising Mrs. C's dahlias. I can hear Bella standing at the top of the steps. She hasn't come down to care for me. She's dry heaving at just the idea of vomit. She's not good with any kind of bodily fluids. I know this, but it still hurts.

When I'm done, I sit back on my heels and take in a deep breath. My mouth tastes foul, I want to rinse it out. I remember the water bottle that I brought outside with me. So up I get.

Ignoring Bella I make a B-line to the bottle, I struggle to get the top off one handed and rinse my mouth out, spitting over the rail. The daylilies are well watered now too.

I really am empty at this point—both emotionally and physically. I just want to go home. I can't look at her. I can't endure talking to her any more. There's nothing more to say anyway. She's calling all the shots. I don't really have any choice in this matter. Either I go along with the _'not exclusive'_ thing or I break it off with her entirely. And where will that leave me? Without Bella. That's where it will leave me. As angry as I am right now. I still love her. I do.

It rips through me to think of her with him—in any context. But at least this way I have a fifty-fifty chance. At least, I _hope_ I'm starting with even odds. I know she thinks she's giving me a hall pass with the non-exclusive thing, but that's not who I am. And if she really thinks I could sample other girls when I love her this much, then she really doesn't know me at all. I tell her as much.

So here we are. Standing on the front porch, both leaning against the banister, at least six foot of space between us as we overlook the yard. I'd like to say we're both looking out at a star filled sky, or something romantic, but this is Forks. Clouds perpetually blanket the sky. And there is zero romance in the air between us right now. If I'm her sun, I've gone and supernovaed. I've no warmth to give her tonight. The longer I hear her words echoing through my mind, the angrier I'm getting. The more resentful. The emptier. This is what she's done to me.

A part of me wants to fight for her tooth and nail. But another part—and it's the front runner at the present— thinks it shouldn't be this hard. I shouldn't have to prove myself the better man. I shouldn't have to compete for my best friend and current girlfriends affections. It shouldn't be a contest. At this point, I don't know if I even care to be running in this competition any more. But I won't make any rash decisions with a head full of tequila and a shovelled out, empty heart.

I turn to her. My eyes heavy and weighted by my fatigue, by my absolute disillusionment and deflation. My normally strong and square shoulders are hunched and hollowed. I am hollow inside. And I want to go home.

"I'll take your deal Bella. As much as I want to hate you over this. I still can't stop loving you. You want to have us both. It's on. You can have us both. Kiss him, if that's what you want. Figure out _who_ you want. Me or him. Or maybe neither of us. Just don't take too long. We only had a few days left anyway."

I turn and make my way back inside. She's leaning against a pillar, holding on with both arms wrapped around the post as she props herself up against the weight of her uncertainty. I do something I thought I'd never ever do…

I walk away from her.

* * *

**_So, I know I didn't give Jake a whole lot of back bone here. But it's just how their relationship is/was. He was always chasing her. Bella always had the upper hand. They were never equals. _**

**_I wonder if you can think of a character who might be better suited to him? hmmmm?_**

**_Review if you like. Or hate... but mostly of you like._**

**_M_**


	6. Chapter 6 Cherries

**Last time on P & C's…**

"_I'll take your deal Bella. As much as I want to hate you over this. I still can't stop loving you. You want to have us both. It's on. You can have us both. Kiss him, if that's what you want. Figure out who you want. Me or him. Or maybe neither of us. Just don't take too long. We only had a few days left anyway."_

_I turn and make my way back inside. She's leaning against a pillar, holding on with both arms wrapped around the post as she props herself up against the weight of her uncertainty. I do something I thought I'd never ever do… _

_I walk away from her._

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Cherries**

I think I must have been dozing for the last few minutes because I open my eyes to the cabin of my friend's car. I'm lying across the back seat, Seth must have called shot gun. My face is pressed to the seat and there is drool wetting my cheek where it is sticking to the vinyl. As we leave the street lights of the greater Forks area behind, I can feel the car accelerate along the darkened bitumen, hurtling down La Push road.

I fight the urge to close my eyes again and go back to sleep, not because I don't want to sleep—because I do—it's because it stinks back here. I have my nose so close to all the trash and crap Attera has tossed behind his seat. I look down to the discarded wrappers and soda cans littering the carpet where my feet should be, I can see something down here and I'm not sure if it's an old sock or maybe a moldy sandwich. Either way, it reeks.

The incessant drone of Quil's car is doing nothing for my plight to keep the little bit of water that I have still in my stomach down either. Here, from the back seat, I realize just how irritating the exhaust he had installed is. The whole chassis is vibrating at this really low frequency, it's sickening…really— I mean, it's vomit inducing. The road surface changes as we enter the Reservation boundary and I have to sit up. I'm finding the vibration now too much to keep my head down.

"Fuck Quil, you gotta clean out this car, it fuckn' stinks back here," I gag, cracking the window. The car is instantly filed with fresh cool air, the scent of the Cedar pines of the Olympic forest hitting my senses. It's exactly what I need.

"Sleeping beauty awakes," he says, watching me through the rear view mirror.

"Here," says Seth as he twist in his seat, handing me a bottle of water.

"Thanks bro," I say, tucking the water under my arm and opening the lid before taking a refreshing swig.

Still turned to face me, Seth tosses a paper lunch bag onto the seat next to me. "Look what _you_ got," he says, his eyebrows waggling.

With the water wedged between my legs, I open the bag, finding a sandwich in there. God I'm hungry and surprisingly, as nauseated as I feel right now, the idea of some food is delightful. I undo the plastic wrap and take a bite. Cheese. Perfect.

"Where did this come from?" I ask, a mouth full of bread, motioning to the already half eaten triangle in my hand.

"Nessie."

"Who?"

"Ness," Seth says again as if I should know who the hell that is.

"Who?"

"Your water girl, Renesmee."

"Oh. The kid," I nod. "I keep forgetting her name."

In fact, I had forgotten about her altogether with all the Bella shit. I hadn't seen either of the girls after I'd gone back inside. After I had yacked, again, I yelled to Quil—who was busy talking to some chicks— that I wanted to get the fuck out of there, pronto and then stalked off the his car, where—apparently—I fell asleep on the back seat.

"Yeah, she 'aint no kid," Seth smirks, nodding like a pimped idiot. "You got a sandwich Black, but look at what _I_ got," he sings, holding his phone in front of my face, the bright, illuminated greenish screen painful to my eyeballs.

I scrunch my eyes up, turning my head. "Fuck Seth, it's fucking bright, get it the fuck away from my face."

"Al-right!" he gripes, turning back around.

It's quiet in the car for a minute. Seth got the kid's number, good on him. I feel a little irritated by that fact for some reason I can't figure, but good-on-him.

I'm resting my elbow on the back of Quil's seat, leaning forward. I can see Seth is texting someone. Probably the kid… Ness. I'm determined to commit her name to memory. I can't read the screen, but he's smiling like an idiot as he types and it pisses me off. Everything is pissing me off right now.

I start rubbing my forehead with my good hand—the other is now almost the size of a catcher's mitt—as I try to calm down my irritation. It's not Clearwater's fault I'm pissy. But I want to see what he's typing.

"You gunna tell us what she said?" Quil asks, snapping me out of my possessive thoughts. He's not asking like his normal smart ass-ed-ness either, he's sincere and inquiring. My friend. And it helps me recall the gravity of my relationship situation with one Isabella Marie Swan.

"It's one big fucking joke and I'm the sucker falling for the punch line," I bite out. They're both quiet, waiting for me to continue. "She wants to cool it down with me, see the Dickward again but still see me. We're free to kiss other people, just no sex. I-E: she wants a hall pass to make out with the fuck head while he's in town."

"What the fuck?" says Quil.

At the same time Seth starts on. "So, basically she's hedging her bets. She's not gunna make a choice between you both. For how long?"

"I've given her the week, then she's gotta choose." That's about all the waiting time I can stomach. Even then, I'm starting to re-think this whole agreement. I can't really stomach any part of it.

"And you're ok with this?" Quill asks, talking to me through the mirror again.

"Fuck no!" I yell. "But what choice do I have? She's fucking got me by the balls. I don't want to lose her, so I gotta give her this," I say, the words sounding desperate and feeble, even to me. I sit back in the seat and throw my pointless brain back onto the head rest. I don't know what the fuck I'm gunna do. It just all seems so hopeless.

I'm so fucking pissed at her. It's just so unfair. I feel completely betrayed, humiliated and cuckolded. I know we're not actually married, but for me… this was the real thing… I'm in this for life and my 'life' just asked if she could play with someone else. I'm hollowed out again.

And to top it all off, my hand is throbbing. I'm going to have to go down to the medical center in the morning. I inspect it, tentatively feeling over the swollen knuckle. A pained hiss escaping my lips.

"I think she put some tablets in the bag Jake. She said you broke you hand?" says Seth over his shoulder.

"Yeah. I'm a fucking idiot and punched a piece of marble," I say, rummaging through the bag, finding two Advil still in their blister pack and a little zip lock bag with a half dozen little red cherries in it.

"I think Edward's lucky you didn't break your hand on _him_."

All I can muster is a grunt and we pull onto our street. I toss the tablets down my throat and chase it with the water before jumping out of the car.

"You still gunna come for a swim tomorrow?" Quil calls before I close the door.

"Maybe. It'll be after lunch though. Just eat without me," I say as I slam the door. That door never latches properly and it needs a real heft to get it to close. I told him this before he bought it. But he liked the red.

"Hey!" I call, my voice loud in the still, dark street.

I run around to the driver's window as he rolls it down. "Thanks for the lift Quill," I say, hopeful my eyes convey more. We're guys, we don't do sappy. He knows what I mean. He has my back. And I know it. And I'm thankful.

"Any time man."

I stumble my way up the gravel drive, water bottle and bag of cherries in hand. No one locks their door on the Res, so I quietly let myself in and make my way straight to my room.

I sink onto my twin size, lying on top of the covers, face up, staring at the faded glow-in-the-dark spaceship stickers I put up on the ceiling when I was eleven. One handed I open the little bag resting on my chest and dangle a cherry by its stem over my mouth, biting it from its suspended perch. It's sweet and juicy and once again, just what I need. The flavor washes out the figurative bad taste in my mouth from the evening's events.

I'm still a little drunk and I spit the pit out, letting it land wherever in my room. From the soft muted thud I hear, I guess it's on the rug under my study chair. Five cherries later, I have a collection of seeds scattered somewhere around my room and I'm happy to just now go to sleep. I hope the clarity of a new day can help me figure this shit storm out. I know I should get up and brush my teeth but I can't be bothered. I'll just do it twice in the morning.

I hear my phone ding with a message and I struggle to turn on the mattress so I can pull it out of my back pocket, checking it in the darkness. A friend request. _Renesme Carlie Cullen_—a picture of a crazy haired woman, leaning out over a balcony, an ancient city in the background. There is a message attached: _make sure you drink plenty of water._ And a little cherry emoticon at the end.

Before my eyes shut, I hover my finger over the screen.

'_Accept_.'

* * *

**Yay! They're Facebook friends. The first step!**

**So many of you are not happy with this Jake. But I'm not going to apologize for how I've created this AU character. As much as we'd all like to think that we'd just tell a partner who might act like Bella has to go jump off a cliff, (Possibly in more colorful language.) The reality is most of us wouldn't, at least not initially. **

**Good people get trod on. And used. And taken for granted. And Jake is a good person. And Bella is guilty of all the above.**

**It can take time to fall out of love with someone. The heart and brain can want two very different things.**

**Anyhow...**

**So, this was only a short little chapter. The aftermath of all that booze. I'll give you all another, slightly more satisfying chapter on the weekend.**

**Thanks for sticking with me. And thanks for the reviews. Namaste.**

**Oh, and thanks Aretee for the Americanization beta. Rubbish V's Trash and all that jazz.**

**;-) Cheers. Marina.**


	7. 7 Riding in cars with boys and a girl

_**Last time on P & C's…. **_

**_One handed I open the little bag resting on my chest and dangle a cherry by its stem over my mouth, biting it from its suspended perch. It's sweet and juicy and once again, just what I need. The flavour washes out the figurative bad taste in my mouth from the evening's events. I'm still a little drunk and I spit the pit out, letting it land wherever in my room. From the soft muted thud I hear, I guess it's on the rug under my study chair. Five cherries later, I have a collection of seeds scattered somewhere around my room and I'm happy to just now go to sleep. I hope the clarity of a new day can help me figure this Bella shit storm out. I know I should get up and brush my teeth but I can't be bothered. I'll just do it twice in the morning._**

**_I hear my phone ding with a message and I struggle to turn on the mattress so I can pull it out of my back pocket, checking it in the darkness. A friend request. Renesme Carlie Cullen—a picture of a crazy haired woman, leaning out over a balcony, an ancient city in the background. There is a message attached: make sure you drink plenty of water. And a little cherry emoticon at the end._**

**_Before my eyes shut, I hover my finger over the screen._**

**'_Accept.'..._**

* * *

**Chapter 7- Riding in cars with boys… and a girl**

It's two o'clock in the afternoon when I finally mosey on down to the beach. I slept late, waking up to a splitting headache and a mouth that feels like whatever it was that was growing in the back of Quil's car. I've been to see the doctor and I'm now sporting a lovely splint on my confirmed broken hand. My hand is immobilised for the next six weeks. Joy. At least though, it's a plastic splint and not plaster. Plaster would suck for the last week of summer. I say this as if not having to share your girlfriend with her ex isn't enough of a reason to have a sucky last week of summer.

As I had sat waiting to see the doctor, and then for the x-ray, and then for the splint, I had plenty of time to think about this whole Bella situation. I have come to the conclusion that no matter which way I look at it, this thing we have, it's probably on its last legs. Even if, after a week of sharing and patience on my behalf, she decides that I truly am the love of her life; I'm not sure she's still going to be the love of mine. And she'll be miles away in Pullman. I know she'll be even further from Dickward, but still. The long distance thing is hard. I would never have thought this only a day ago. But now… Now, I can't get past this idea of her uncertainty. Surely, soul mates know who each other are? You can't have _two_, so isn't it obvious who your soul mate is? I thought I had it all figured out. Obviously I was wrong. Dead wrong. About Bella. And about me.

Even with the manipulated green light I gave for her to see Edward, I can't help but feel two-timed and cheated. And I can't see me finding this an easy thing to get past. There is going to be a lot of poison seeds planted in our little garden of love. Maybe too many to weed out.

I am still resolute, however, that I'm _not_ going to take her up on the 'hall pass' offer. I'm steering clear of the female gender until all this crap is sorted. We don't need any more reasons to doubt and any distrust stirred up between us.

And all this is assuming she chooses me. 'Cause if she doesn'… well… well then… then I really am a sucker. And I don't know what the hell I'll do.

But I don't want to think about that now.

With a beach towel over my shoulder, I kick off my flip flops and hook them over my mannequin like thumb splint. I can see Embry sitting next to a chick with long black, dead straight hair half way down her back, I'm guessing is his new girl. They're sitting by a massive driftwood trunk half way up the beach.

"Well look what the cat dragged out!" yells Quil from behind the trunk, standing up to grab something out of the cooler as I approach.

"What time do you call this?" asks Emb lightly, smiling at me, his arm draped over the girl's shoulder.

"I told Quil I wasn't coming for lunch," I retort.

"I know. I'm only jokn'. I hear you had quite the fucked up night last night?" he asks as I plonk down on the greyed mineral sand next to him.

"Royally fucked," I say, holding up the splinted hand.

"It's broken?"

I nod, "boxer's fracture they called it."

"Can you still swim?"

"Don't see why not."

"I want to take Raven up to Taylor's point and show her how we cliff dive," he says puling her nearer.

"Hi," I say, introducing myself cause by best friend is obviously not going to.

"Oh shit!" he cusses, "Sorry, Jake this is Raven. Raven, Jake," motioning between us both.

"Hey," she says in return, "it's good to finally meet you. Put a face to the name," she smiles and I can see what Embry sees in her, she's pretty. I hope they have a better time of things than me and Bells.

"So he's got you cliff diving hey?"

She shrugs, "I'm not sure. I think I'll watch the others. I don't think I'm game for it yet. Ness is way gutsier than me," she says, looking down towards the water.

My gaze follows Ravens and I see Seth running into the waves, diving and he tackles a chick into a swell. Ness. I have indeed succeeded in to committing the name to memory, at last. I don't remember much of last night, but her… I _do_ remember. Images of last night flash by me. A tiny kid getting ready to deck me. A cracked mud mask. Water bottles. Pillows. Cheese sandwiches. Cherries. Ness.

She's sporting a little black bikini today. Far cry from her expensive brand pyjamas. And Seth was right. She aint no kid.

Well fuck me.

She is tiny, but there is no mistaking that body for a child's.

I watch them in the surf. Seth is trying to tackle her back into the water as she starts to run back towards the beach. He swings one arm around her waist, pulling her backwards, into the white wash and against him. It's obvious what he's doing. He's pulling out all the stops to touch her. Walking that fine line between touching before it becomes _touching. _I can hear her squeals as she gets up and gets pulled back for the third time. As I watch his overt display of pursuit, I can't for the life of me figure out why I suddenly want to pick Clearwater up by his throat and toss him out to sea. Can't he see the girl wants to get out of the water? Just fucking-well let her!

Eventually, he lets her up, casually draping his arm over her shoulder as they walk up the sand. All buddy-buddy like. I feel like a perv, but I can't help but watch her curves sway as she makes her way over to me— I mean us. She sneaks out from under Seth's arm as she ducks down to grab her towel, wrapping it around herself.

"Hi Jake," she says before she lifts the towel to dry face and squeezing it around the massive bun she has her hair up in. "So your hand is broken? I thought it would be." She's flashing quick morsels of creamy skin as she goes about drying herself.

"Well it made a loud enough whack," I say, trying not to be too obvious that I'm sneaking glances.

She lifts her head up, wrapping the towel around her shoulders and moves to sit between Raven and the driftwood trunk, effectively cutting off my show and also forcing Seth to sit somewhere else.

She leans back, behind Raven and Emb so I can see her again, her arm leaning out behind her as she inclines. "How long do you have to wear the splint for?" she asks, genuinely interested.

"Six weeks. But at least I can get it wet."

"What? You gunna come cliff diving with us?" she queries, a challenging glint in her eye. This is a very different girl from the one I met last night. She seems lighter, more comfortable.

"You're really gunna jump?" I can't keep the scepticism out of my voice. Most chicks run a mile at the ides of jumping off a twenty foot cliff.

She shrugs, one of her delicate shoulders rising up to her jaw, "Seth promises me that it's deep enough and that there is absolutely no hidden rocks to paralyse myself on underneath. What a life experience. To have access to what is normally private Reservation land and I have the opportunity to jump from… the continent of North America… into the Pacific Ocean. How can I possibly let that experience pass me by?" she says, an amazingly honest and free smile spreading across her lips.

I'm intrigued by her different and original look on life. The only time I could get Bells to show any interest in jumping is when she was in her near-suicidal stage. This little firecracker on the other hand, is keen to leap so that she can experience life a little more.

"Well, shall we go?" Embry chimes in, using my knee to help himself off the ground. He's looking at me over his shoulder as he does this. An eyebrow raised, a private question in his eye. I think to myself… _what_? Get your hands of me fag. But he keeps on looking at me. I just give a dead pan stare back. "What?" I mouth silently.

He leans over to his new girlfriend, holding her hand and hoisting her up as he says to me, "So I take it Bella's not coming today?" ever the subtle cock.

Alright asshole. I don't need a reminder that I have a girlfriend. I'm just talking to her. Jesus.

"No. No she's not Embry." I answer with a tight lip. "She's taking today to be alone to think about things. I'm going over to her place tomorrow." I really don't need a reminder of how fucked up my love life is right now.

Ness makes a little scoffing noise at my comment. I think she thought it was under her breath, but I heard it. I think I catch the tail end of an eye roll too as I turn my head to her. But then again, I can't see much of her face, because she's slipping a little cotton dress over her head. Her little-big tits are on fine display in that triangle bikini as she extends her arms over her head letting the white cotton dress slip over her chest. I see both Seth and Quill getting an eye full too. Again, I feel all protective of her. I'm not sure if I'm ok with her wearing that kind of swimwear. The dress is thin strapped, almost see-through now it's wet from her bikini and it only comes down to her mid-thigh. Really, it barely covers anything. I wish she had a turtle neck and sweats to put on. No, not ok with her choice of costume.

Oblivious the fact that three out of the four of us guys on the beach have just watched her dress, she picks up her bag and sandals. "So are we going cliff diving of what?"

We all snap back to reality, shuffling and making our way up the sand.

Embry has his two-door Tacoma already parked in the lot and we decide it easier if the four of us just sit in the back on the bed as he and Raven drive us up to the third beach trail. Seth jumps up first, reaching a hand to help Ness up while Quil gets her bag. It's a bit of a joke how tall Emb has jacked his pick-up. I mean, I helped him do it, it's hot. But when a five foot nothing little girl wants to jump up the back…It's a joke. On her tippy toes she can only just see over the tailgate.

"You want a boost?" I offer behind her, bending down to give my knee as a step up.

"I think that's a good idea," she laughs, bracing one hand against the truck and the other on my shoulder. I really could have just walked to the back and lowered the tailgate. But where's the fun in that?

In less than a second, she's up, standing on my leg and being pulled up from under her arms by Clearwater. And in no more than two more seconds, I'm up and in the back too. Seth sits against the rear window, facing backwards, patting a space next to him.

"It's easier if you can lean on something," he explains. Yeah right Seth, _I'm sure you'll catch her if she bounces around too much_ I think, like a jealous asshole.

Bella. Bella. Bella. I chant to myself. Not collecting the hall pass. I love Bella. Gunna prove I'm serious about us. The kid gave her number to Seth anyway—not me.

She gave _me_ cherries and a friend request.

Ness sits down and Quil follows, squeezing in beside them. All three are squashed between the wheel wells, hips and legs pressed together. You'd think it would be all sexy squeezing up against her. It won't be. It's gunna be mighty uncomfortable when we go over bumps.

I push the cooler into the rear corner with my foot and move to sit against the tail gate. Getting a good show of Tweedledee and Tweedledum as they vie for Alice's cousin's attention.

Emb backs out of the parking space and heads for the south exit onto the main road. It's highly illegal, sitting in the back like this, but who's gunna stop us? No cops here on the Res, the elders who police things like this are; my dad, Seth's mom and Quil's grandad. We're safe.

It doesn't take long for the first bump. In fact, it's only the speed bump in the parking lot. Embry takes it way too fast. Asshole. And all four of us, plus the cooler are airborne. Me, landing more or less where I started. Seth and Quill too. But Ness, she has nothing to hold on to in the middle like that and she flies up, landing sideways across the cooler that has slit half way across the tray. The right angled plastic corner into the side of her gut.

"Hey!" I shout to Embry. Thumping on the outside of the truck, motioning for him to stop for a sec. He does and we all lurch around by the sudden breaking.

"Are you ok?" Seth asks shifting to help her.

She nods, not answering, winded. She coughs a little, gripping her side as she does.

"Fucking go a bit faster next time dick!" Seth yells through the rear cabin glass to Embry.

"Sorry!" he yells back. "I just assumed you all would be holding on!"

"He has a good point," Quil agrees, "you can hold _my_ hand if you like Ness."

Ding, ding, ding, ding! I was waiting for the Aterra charm to get turned on. Seth is glaring death rays at him. Ness just looks awkward.

"Um, I just might sit over here," she mumbles, crawling over to the back corner. Next to me.

I'm spread out all over the place, so I move, designating myself to one side and pull the cooler between us. She nestles into the corner, arm's out stretched over each side of the metal, her legs crossed in front of her. I bang on the back of the truck a few times and Embry takes off again, this time accelerating slightly _under_ the land speed record.

We travel along the winding roads of the Olympic wilderness. I turn from my position, scanning down, out of the tray, at the white lines on the asphalt as they flick by underneath us. I can see in my peripheral vision Ness doing the same. I look over to watch her as she turns around and tucks her legs under her, peering over the edge of the tray. She gazes up to the trees that line the road, an exhilarated smile splitting her lips as her teeth are revealed. It's a warm day, and for once in our miserable lives up here in the pacific North West, it's sunny. The sun is shining down on us, unobscured by the Sitka spruce on our sideline and it's pleasant. She closes her eyes, and I can see her appreciating the warmth of the rays. Enjoying every moment for all it's worth. It's beautiful. _She's_ beautiful.

Shit. I gotta cut this shit out. Bella. I love Bella. There is no doubt in my mind. There isn't. I'm going to go down with the ship if it's sinking. I'm not giving up this easily. I can't give up on us. I won't. There could never be anyone else who could compare to her. Never, ever, ever, ever. These are the things I tell myself. I mean, she's _Bells_. My Bells… But she's _his _Bella too. I think this ship is already under water.

And Ness is beautiful.

A few minutes later and we're pulling up to the little shoulder that has been etched out by the various visitor who have also stoped here in the past. The path is easy, well used by hiking enthusiasts and folks wanting a quieter beach than First is. Irrespective of this, Seth and Quill are still trying to help and hold Ness over every puddle and pebble. I just keep up my post, trailing from the rear as we walk mostly single file, sometimes two a breast. Ateara and Clearwater somehow managing to make it three alongside in segments. I stay solitary. Content to look but not touch. Bella is the only girl I want to touch. Even if it is thorough the bottom of a looking glass boat. That's my story and I'm sticking with it.

We reach the sand and we stroll down to the beginning of the overland trail that will take us to the top of the point. Embry has decided to stay with Raven for the first round of jumps. Keep her company and all. Keep her mouth company with his tongue more like it.

We strip off our t-shirts, Ness… her dress. But why would I notice that? I don't, I don't notice.

The four of us—tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, Alice's cousin, and me, the Cheshire cat who disappears off the radar when the twins are doing their thing— we make our way along the path, up to the cliff top.

This path is not as well maintained as the first, there are various branches and shrubs encumbering our way. Seth is still fawning, offering his hand every few yards. I can't help the little feeling of satisfaction that settles in me as I note she only takes his offer of assistance twice on the whole half mile journey.

We've all done this climb dozens of times—all except Ness. It's practically an initiation into the Quileute tribe. Well, it is to our little gang of hooligans anyway. But no matter how many times I've done it, it's still breath taking to make your way out of the forest growth and see the visa below, north is Teahwhit head and south is the stunning outcrops around Strawberry point.

I'm always humbled being up here. How many generations of my people have stood and awed at the view, found their inner strength and leapt from this very spot.

"Wow!" gasps Ness, her voice carried on her breath like a hush as she comes through the undergrowth. "Just, wow!" It is quiet for a spell, nothing but the wind, the trickle of the waterfall as it cascades down into the ocean and the shrill piping call of the oystercatchers nesting on the small rocky ledges below us.

"It's so beautiful here." She turns to look at all three of us, like she's seeing us for the first time. "How many of your people must have stood right here, in this exact spot, and marveled at the view as they dived into this little slice of heaven?"

I can't reply. I'm too overcome by the way she has just taken the words from my thoughts.

"You think my grandfather new about this place when he was a kid?" Quil Ateara V asks, ... genuinely, as if this is the first time it has occurred to him that we, in fact, did not discover this cliff as eight year olds. I can't help but shake my head. Fucking idiot. And by the look on Ness's face, this one glimpse into the psyche of my friend has just knocked him out of the running for her affections. And boy, does little Sethie know it too. Smirking like an idiot. Thinks he's a sure thing now she knows Quil is obtuse.

"So, we gunna do this?" he asks, wasting no time to take his presumed winnings, holding her by the hand and pulling her closer to his side and closer to the edge..

"What? Together?" she shrieks, her eyes wide with caution. "Isn't that kind of dangerous? Won't we kind of… collide when we hit the water?"

"Noooo," says Seth instantly, all bravado and swagger. "We jump in pairs all the time."

He's lying, we don't, and if we do, it's several feet apart. You wouldn't want to smash heads on the way in, knock yourself out and drown. "Seth, come on man," I petition. I don't want her pretty face smashed in by Clearwater's watermelon head. "Let her go. You really should be at least a yard or two apart."

I pretty sure I'm giving my best '_older brother from another mother, I'm more responsible, the face of reason_', face. Because that's the motive behind me basically telling him to get his hands off her. Safety.

He's not buying it, the face I mean, not the OH&S. He's eyeing me from the side. Like he's just realized I might be some sort of competition for him. Not that I am because, I love Bella. Bell is my life. She is my girlfriend. Even with a hall pass, I am going to maintain faithfulness. Bella. I love her.

Just not too sure if she loves me back.

Going down with the ship.

But Seth is eyeing me off, I can almost hear the mental growl of "_Mine_" coming from him. I get it. You got her number Seth. The only reason she's even here is because you invited her. She's yours.

But she gave me cherries.

And a friend request.

"Let's all go together," she logics. "Line up a good arm's length apart and count to three."

This kid is like a diplomatic expert, I've watched her for the last half hour dodge hands and looks, re-interpreted suggestive comments and save herself from anything from a broken nose to a lung full of saltwater by not synchronize diving with a sixteen year old who can barely synchronize his own hand when he tugs one off. Not that I have seen Seth tugging one off— it's just a saying— one that sounded better in my head.

'All in at once' sounds like a very good idea. So we line up, Seth situates himself right next to her and predictably, Quil scurries over to the other side. I move in over next to Quil, giving him a friendly slap on the back as I do. "Who's gunna count?"

"You do it Jacob," she says, leaning over and looking at me. Trust and something deeper in her eyes. I think it might just be fondness. I hope she can see it reciprocated back.

"Are you sure you're ready?" I ask her. And I mean _really_ ask her. I'd hate to think she did something just because she felt pressured to do it. Like give Seth her number.

"Ready as the day I was born" she nods, the excitement evident in her voice.

"All right then." I nod, standing upright and taking a deep breath. My lungs filled with the clean fresh air of the ocean, a sight tang of salt on my lips. "One, two, three!"

And we all jump. Not an ounce of synchronization between the four of us. Landing in the water with mighty splashes. It takes a few seconds to surface and immediately, I check that Ness has surfaced. This protectiveness is almost instinctive. I would have made a good big brother.

We all start to swim to shore, casual long strokes against the current. And before long, we're up on the sand, laughing and walking to where we left our towels and our friends.

"Shit!" says Embry as we approach them, "If I'd known you were all gunna jump together I would have gone with you guys the first time."

I stand off, letting the water drip off me. No use wetting my towel if we're gunna go back in. In next to no time however, Ness has a towel wrapped around that bikini I haven't been looking at.

"You guys should go again, I'll stay here and keep Raven company. Have some girl talk," she says, sitting down into the sand.

"All righty then," Emb sings, leaning over to kiss his girl before taking off towards the trail, Seth and Quil with him.

I stall for a moment, watching as Ness slips that cotton dress over her head, the neck-line catching on the wet bun coiled atop her head. That silver chain around her neck stuck across her face. I resist the urge to reach out and help her.

"Jake!" Embry yells, a cautionary tinge to his tone. His shout pulls my eye from this tiny girl I've only just met, before she sees me peering. I jog up the white sand, making light of the natural obstacle course of the strewn drift wood as I catch up to my friends.

Again I follow up the rear.

I'm avoiding the probing look Emb gives me as I fall in behind him on the narrow, single file track. Embry's ass is far less inspiring than Ness's was. Not that I'm looking at his ass… I wasn't looking at hers either… much…I'm just saying… she was walking in front of me… and so is he… I can't help it… oh shit—don't worry about it…

Anyway, we jump again. The four of us guys at the same time. Still no synchronicity at all.

We swim back to shore and find the two girls deep in conversation. Ness is talking earnestly and Raven listening with equal intent. Emb makes some kind of whistle noise as we approach and they both jump. They look momentarily like they have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. It doesn't last for long though. Raven gives Emb a welcome kiss and then she's eyeing me from her periphery, indecision in her expression. Why? — I have no idea.

Ness, on the other hand, is rubbing sunscreen onto her legs. I'm trying not to look at her, really honestly, I am, but for crying out loud, with those curves, I have no idea how I could have though she was a kid last night, none what so ever. Her gaze meets mine and she looks away quickly, not before I catch the look of sympathy though. What the hell? What does she know that would give her cause to look at me like that? Then it occurs to me. Any conversation I've had with her has been either, on the edge of heartbroken depression or drunken perversion. She must think you're such a looser. Real smooth Black, real smooth.

Everyone decides to call it a day and we start to head back along the trail to the car. Quill and Seth as arguing over who is going to drive Ness home. Quil's car is parked at the Clearwater's place, so they compromise, agreeing that they both will. Then quietly they negotiate the details out of Nessie's earshot, deciding that both the boys will sit in the front and Ness in the back. Neither one willing to give the other time in the back seat with a girl. I wouldn't trust either of them either.

Me though, I'm not really ready to go home yet. I might get Emb to drop me back at First beach, I wouldn't mind a good swim or a surf. I feel like I only just got to the beach before we left, in fact I had. I missed lunch and whatever picnic thing they already did because I was sitting at the clinic.

This thought of missing the picnic because of my hand now reminds me of two things. My pain meds are starting to wear off— they're sitting on the counter of my dad's kitchen— and I'm starving, the solution to that predicament, also in dad's kitchen. I'd better go home for both.

So here I am, following behind everyone; Emb and Raven up front, hand in hand, Seth and Quil still trying to flank the poor girl. I'm no expert in body language, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't want either of their advances. She's brushing off their totally transparent attempts at contact and sweeps of fingers. In all honesty, it's mostly Quil –he's a handsie little fucker—but she's brushing them both off. She's being pretty gracious about it too. I guess she has to be nice, if she wants a lift back to Forks. I could take her. If she was in my car, I'd let her ride shot gun. I mean… if she wanted.

* * *

**So now we****'re getting somewhere****… sort of. Seth may be a teeny weenie obstacle.**

**Thank you Aretee for the truck Americanisation. In my part of the word a ****'truck****' is a big big rig and in summer, at the beach of a fictional La Push, kids ride in utes. But we****'re a bit reversed here down under. So thanks L for removing all my _S_****_'s_ and adding all those Z****'s ! (Note: I left the 'S' in Americanisation- just to prove a point.) **

**I****'m terrible Muriel. (Only a tenth of you will get that line.) Let me know if you do****…**

**And if you enjoyed this chapter. **

**Cheers, Marina**

**.**_  
_


	8. Chapter 8 - Look But Don't Touch

_**Last time on P & C's…**_

_Everyone decides to call it a day and we start to head back along the trail to the car. _

_So here I am, following behind everyone; Emb and Raven up front, hand in hand, Seth and Quil still trying to flank the poor girl. I'm no expert in body language, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't want either of their advances. She's brushing off their totally transparent attempts at contact and sweeps of fingers. In all honesty, it's mostly Quil –he's a handsie little fucker—but she's brushing them both off. She's being pretty gracious about it too. I guess she has to be nice, if she wants a lift back to Forks. I could take her. If she was in my car, I'd let her ride shot gun. I mean… if she wanted._

**Chapter 8 - Look but don't touch.**

Like she could hear my thoughts, Ness turns and starts walking backwards for a bit, looking straight at me. It freaks me out. Was I talking out loud again?

"So Jacob, apart from the obvious," she says, lifting her hand, the same one of mine that's broken, "how are you feeling? Any crippling headaches from self-induced ethanol based dehydration?" the little shit has a smirk on her face, like she's revelling in the notion of me having a hangover.

"I do have a mild headache, thankyou. I somehow managed to be mostly re-hydrated last night though. I have a vague recollection of some miniature person snatching the alcohol out of my hands and forcing the water into it." I smile at her, I guess a little smirk forms on my face too. I never really thanked her for looking after me last night. I guess, this is a close as I'm gunna get to giving her gratitude.

"You're welcome," she says, her voice kind of singing, it's sweet and she has a sparkle in her eye as she looks at me. I look at her as she smiles at me… and I smile at her… and we're both smiling at each other… Shit. Am I flirting? I think I'm flirting. Oh shit. Bella Bella. Bella. Think about Bella. Even if she's not _just_ thinking about you. I gotta give it a good go.

Ness must notice the change in me because now, her eyes have lost that sparkle and that smile seems a little forced and she turns around to walk forwards again.

I feel guilty as hell as we walk up the path. The girl is beautiful. I think any red-blooded male who meets her would be infatuated. I can't help but be at least a _little_ attracted to her, I'm a seventeen year old boy. But I love Bella. I'm in a relationship—A completely fucked up, sitting on a knife's edge, possibly not reciprocated relationship. But a relationship nonetheless. And no matter what kind of permission slip I've got; I 'aint no cheater.

Look but don't touch, Jacob. And when you are looking, do not, I repeat, _do not_ get caught doing so, and no, absolutely NO touching. Did I just give myself permission to look at Ness's ass? I think I did. Well, if Bella is maybe kissing the Ed—that idea still makes my stomach tie in knots— I think I have it well with in my rights to just look. I refuse to mentally note that I promised Bella less that twenty-four hours ago that I'd love her forever and I would _not_ be taking her up on her hall pass. I'm not. I'm just looking.

Looking…Guys do it all the time. Doesn't make them cheaters. Again, I refuse to acknowledge that pesky little voice in my head telling me I've never actually _wanted_ to look at anyone but Bells before. At least not until now. And the woman in front of me has the sexiest calves I've ever seen, they're lean and long, and just a hint of definition as she walks along the gravel in her jelly sandals.

Ness stops suddenly, turning around to me and flipping her back pack off her shoulders. I feel like I've just been caught ogling and man, do I feel a crazy conflicted feeling of both guilt and pleasure. But I needn't have worried, she doesn't even look up to me. She's busy fumbling through her bag, yanking out her phone, the tone of some syncopated drum rhythm ringing out of the little rectangle. The sound is abruptly cut off as she answers.

"Uel!" Seth and Quil have stopped to wait for her as she slows to talk, but she silently waves them on, slipping back so that she is now at the rear as she practically screams into the cell, her entire face lighting up. "Yeah, I got in yesterday."

"Not yet. I think I might skate for a while. Yeah," she says to into the phone. I can't help but listen in as I throw my towel over the other shoulder in a ruse to turn my head and check she's still walking. If I'm being honest, I already can tell she still is by how close her voice is, but I want to see her face. She's so damn happy talking to this person. She has a hold of that pendant around her neck and she's absently sliding that angel back and forward. "You wouldn't believe what I just did," she continues.

"No you asshole," she laughs, "I jumped from a cliff! Honestly."

All of sudden Embry is by my side and I'm distracted from my covert listening. "So… Dude… Ah… I… I…" he clears his throat, starting again. "What exactly…?" again he sighs, a nervous break as he seems to think about his choice of words. "Ness… told… Raven…" he starts for a third time, still unable to spit out the words. Embry isn't always the most eloquent of speakers but this awkward, even for him.

"What Emb? What did she tell Raven?" My best friend, the kid I've known since kindergarten, the guy I borrowed my first porno off, the boy who helped me skin my first deer when the elders took us hunting when we were twelve, he's looking at me like I'm about to get a diagnosis of a terminal illness. What the hell do the chicks know that I don't?

"Ness told Raven that she saw Bella at the Cullen house this morning and that she went straight up into the bedroom wing. I mean, she didn't say if she saw her go into Edward's room. Maybe she was going to see Alice? Just… Ness thinks you're being strung along and she told Raven, who agrees with Ness, and she told me and… I had to tell you man, I had to tell you." He spits it all out in just about one breath.

I don't know what to think about this new information. Would Bella really have lied to my face last night? Chosen to cancel our plans, to choose not to spend the day with me and instead choose to see the Ed? I didn't think there was anything left in my chest to shovel out. But _no_, there must have been a little bit of dignity back behind the spleen, because I feel the loss. The logical part of my brain thinks I should be angry. But I'm not, I'm empty again. There is something very exposing about having your relationship problems a shared secret and that you're the last to find out about it. It's humiliating and heart breaking. And I think Bella lied to me. She's a terrible, liar too. Normally I can see through them a mile away. But yeah, I think she lied to me.

"Ness said she didn't want to be the one to tell you, and Raven said she doesn't know you very well so she told me. And I'm sorry man. Honestly, I wouldn't have said anything, it's only that… we all saw how bad she was last year…"

I cut him off. "Yeah Emb. Don't worry about it. I'm not gunna shoot the messenger. Thanks for telling me." I say. Doing my best to smile at him. Constipated look again, I can pretty much guarantee it. _I will not cry, I will not cry_, I say as a mantra to myself, pushing all those betrayed emotions down, down, down. I'll deal with them later, much later, when all I have is my twin size and my motorbike bedspread surrounding me.

"Ok," Emb says softly, giving me a brotherly pat on the back. "Ok?"

"Yeah, Ok." I nod, giving him leave to jog back up to his girl who has been watching us with short backwards glances over her shoulder. And now Quil and Seth are looking at me, a question in their eyes. My head is down as I watch my feet step up the slight incline. I can't make eye contact, they're about to brim with tears and I couldn't handle that level of indignity right now.

"No, you Ass! The Washington boys are not quite as forward as the Romans," my ears pick up on Ness's conversation again. I can't help myself. Eavesdropping has all of a sudden become my hobby. _And,_ it gives me a sec to compose myself after talking to Embry. Why the hell would she ask for an open relationship then lie about seeing him today? Is it her way of letting me go easily? I sincerely hope not, 'cause there is nothing _easy _about it. I squeeze my eyes shut and force those god dam tears back inside my head. Push it down. Down, down, down.

"My butt," I hear her say.

God, I want to know who is on the other side of that phone line and what the hell they are talking about.

"It's too much effort, every, single, day. I'm thinking seriously about taking it to my boobs."

Again, I want to know. So bad.

What an awesome distraction.

"I don't care what she says. It's my life. I'm the one who has to put up with it all."

She's laughing at whatever the person is saying. "I haven't even shown him!" she giggles, "ok. OK! Here." She trots up beside me, keeping stride. "Here," she says to me handing me her phone, "talk to Nahuel, he wants to tell you something." What the hell? Who is Nahuel? And why would he want to talk to me?

"Hello?" I say, putting the phone to my ear.

"Hello Brother," says a deep voice of a man from the phone, "I need you to promise me you won't let her cut her hair too much."

"What?" I have no idea what they're talking about.

"Her hair," says the man with a half British, half Latino accent. "She has never had it cut and I think she would regret it if she cut it too short the first time. I need you to make sure she doesn't cut it above her boobs."

Is this guy serious? "Ah. Ok?"

"Now you make sure you look after my Nessie for me. Ok? She's had a rough year."

"Ok?"

"Good. Help her get a car too, don't let her skate everywhere. Oh, and when I say to her boobs, I mean when it's curly. Not this straightened shit. Curly hair to her boobs or her mother is going to kill her. Ok?"

"Ok?" I still have no idea why I am part of this conversation. And why she is _his _Nessie?

"Ok. Put the little visionary back on. Nice to talk to you Jacob Black."

"Um Bye?" I am now reduced to a blithering idiot. How the fuck does he know my whole name?

I hand the phone back to Ness to find her untangling her hair from the bun she's had it in. All of a sudden the phone conversation makes a lot more sense. She has the longest hair I have ever seen. Fuck a duck, it's longer than her ass. Fucking curlier that curly fries and long enough that she would sit on it if she wasn't careful. She mimes an apologetic look, and points to the crazy mass of wet ringlets falling over her like cousin 'It' as she takes the phone back.

We have finally made it to the end of the trail and I can hear her saying her good byes and hanging up.

"Sorry about that," she says to me, skipping up besides me. "He gets a bit over protective. We have a weird relationship. The boundary between friend and lover and brother and mother all get blurred sometimes. He loves my hair, but it's a massive pain in the ass. I want to be less of a side show spectacle."

Lover? She has a boyfriend? Of course she has. Why wouldn't she? I have a girlfriend… remember? Why is it such an issue if she has a boyfriend? It's not. I don't care. Of course not. Why would I care? That's right. I don't.

"You've _never _cut it?" I ask, giving her a boost into the pickup, this time from the lowered back of the tailgate.

"Never," she says in typical teenage mockery, moving to stand at the front of the truck bed. Still standing, she braces her legs at a steady shoulder-with apart and grips her hands tight on the rollbar, preparing to ride whilst standing up. "I've always wanted to do this," she says looking up and over the roof of the truck. "And anyway, I think it might be a great way to dry it off," she adds lifting her eyes and brows to a curl across her forehead, flicking it and nodding her head for me to come and stand next to her. Quill and Seth are both giving me dirty looks as I move to stand next to her, leaving no room for the other two. It's not my fault. She asked me. I'm not gunna be rude, am I?

So, Tweedledum and Tweedledee move to their corners and—I'm guessing—stare daggers at the back of my head but still check out Nessie's ass. I tap the top of the cabin and Emb takes off. Ness's hair flies behind her initially, but about twenty seconds into the journey, it starts flicking up and down and swirling in a maelstrom of brown-red mess. It's in her eyes, in my face and this is an epic fail if I've ever seen one. One handed, she's trying to grab it all and pull it over her shoulder. But there is so much of it and the wind is buffering it everywhere, it's not working. Holding on with my good hand, I help her, scooping long strands into the bunch she has gathered over her shoulder. I'm a helpful kind of guy, what can I say?

Then Embry—who has now cemented his position as my best friend for life—takes a corner a little too fast and she shifts, her body toppling a bit too far sideways. In my direction. If I wasn't a hormonal seventeen year old boy, I may have thought this quite a dangerous and perilous thing—but I _am_ a hormonal seventeen year old boy. So, instead of suggesting we sit down, I catch her and shift behind her. My arms cadging around as she moves to stand between my legs. One hand is griping the roll bar, the other stays where it caught her, around her waist, flat across her stomach.

She's so freakn tiny. I lift my arm and check—yep—she'd fit under my arm. And she doesn't pull away from my hold. Quite the opposite, she leans her head and presses her back into my chest, and… suddenly, my chest is full. Like… full up… swelling or some shit. And I lean my head down and press my jaw into the side of her face, and she press's it back.

This is so easy. THIS is as easy as breathing.

Easy as Breathing?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Bella. Bella. Bella. Oh fuck. Look but no touching, Black.

This is touching. SHIT!

I unwind my hand from her, slowly sliding of off the dip of her waist and pulling my entire body back. "Um Ness? Let's sit down," I lean further down and say into her ear. She has her eyes closed, holding her mop of hair in a fist against her heart. She opens them suddenly at my words, turning her head to me. Our faces are inches apart, the initial confusion and then the hurt and chagrin in her eyes is apparent.

"Oh… Ok... Yeah… sure," she smiles, trying to step sideway. I can see she's biting the inside of her lip. It's not the same as the way Bella does it. That shit is sexy as fuck. This, what Ness is doing now, this is trying to fake a happy look, or even worse, it's the look of fighting back tears.

Being true to my seventeen year old form, though, I totally ignore it. We both turn around, me moving away so that there is at least some space between us as we sit back down. Our ass's side along the rear window until they land on the cool aluminium tray below. I don't look at her again. I look staring ahead, which is actually backwards and unfortunately, it's also straight at my two friends who are… not happy… to say the least. Quill is working his jaw like his getting ready to bite a chunk out of me and Seth is clenching and unclenching his fists like his itching to break his hand too, only it would be on my face, not a bathroom vanity.

I have just fucked this up bad. Really bad. I sneak a little look at Ness as we pull up outside of Seth's house. She glances at me, before quickly shifting her eyes away, but it's enough time for me to catch a glimpse of glassy chestnut. I don't want to make her cry. It's just… I'm with Bella…kind of… and she… she has a Latino boyfriend…at least I think she does… and I told Bella I wouldn't… but Bella lied to me… And Ness? Ness gave me cherries and a sandwich and water and pain killers and she wouldn't let me go up and check on them last night, and she listened. She listened to me. And she leaned up against me. She didn't pull away… I did that. And now Seth is holding her hand as she jumps down from the tray.

She turns around as Embry and Raven yell their goodbyes out the window, waving back to them and then thanking them for the picnic lunch that I wasn't at. I've just realized I am really hungry now too.

Then Ness rummages around her backpack and she lops over to me. "I saved this for you," she says, not meeting my eye as she hands over a little triangle package of waxed paper. "I thought you might be hungry, it's good hangover food." I open it up to find a piece of pie, the lattice strips across the top oozing a deep, rich, glossy red filing; cherry. "I made it this morning and I wanted to make sure you got a piece."

"Thanks," I say, a little choked up. I'm an asshole to her last night and she makes me pie. And then she chooses to _still_ give it to me after I'm an even bigger asshole today.

"No problem," she shrugs. "I might see you around Jacob. If not, I'll see you at school."

Emb starts the car and reverses out the drive, back towards my street. I can't stop watching her as we drive up the road. She's standing there, her hand up in a waving gesture, not waving though, just up, like she's forgotten to move it. I take a bite of the pie after a few yards. An explosion of sweet and tart and delicious hits my tongue. "It's good!" I yell from down the street smiling, holding up the half eaten slice and crinkled paper. "Thank you Renesmee."

She grins, that same smile I saw earlier when she answered the phone now directed at me. It's beautiful. "You remembered my name!"

* * *

**So hi all, Jakey boy is still conflicted and still clinging on to whatever might be left of his relationship with Bells. But he has eyes for Ness, even if he won't admit it.**

**I post this chapter from the transit lounge from Changi airport in Singapore. Fresh off an 8 hr flight from Oz, waiting 3hrs for the 12hr flight to Amsterdam. It's gunna be a long Mo-Fo day.**

**I'm hopeful thought, that when I get to some WiFi again I'll have an inbox full of reviews. Make my dreams come true girls. Please!**

**Hope you've enjoyed. Marina**


	9. Chapter 9 - Jumping to Conclusions

**OK, we're aback to a little Bella angst chapter. This is the penultimate angst chapter. Jake is getting angrier and angrier as time goes by. But he is still a guy and guys think with their dicks. Or at least this Jake does, sort of.**

**Enjoy.**

_**Last time on P & C's…. **__I have just fucked this up bad. Really bad. I sneak a little look at Ness as we pull up outside of Seth's house. She glances at me, before quickly shifting her eyes away, but it's enough time for me to catch a glimpse of glassy chestnut. I don't want to make her cry. It's just… I'm with Bella…kind of… and she… she has a Latino boyfriend…at least I think she does… and I told Bella I wouldn't… but Bella lied to me… And Ness? Ness gave me cherries and a sandwich and water and pain killers and she wouldn't let me go up and check on them last night, and she listened. She listened to me. And she leaned up against me. She didn't pull away… I did that. And now Seth is holding her hand as she jumps down from the tray…_

…"_I might see you around Jacob. If not, I'll see you at school."_

_Emb starts the car and reverses out the drive, back towards my street. I can't stop watching her as we drive up the road. She's standing there, her hand up in a waving gesture, not waving though, just up, like she's forgotten to move it. I take a bite of the pie after a few yards. An explosion of sweet and tart and delicious hits my tongue. "It's good!" I yell from down the street smiling, holding up the half eaten slice and crinkled paper. "Thank you Renesmee."_

_She grins, that same smile I saw earlier when she answered the phone now directed at me. It's beautiful. "You remembered my name!"_

**Chapter 9**

Sunday morning I wake up feeling much better than Saturday morning had found me. I had had a quiet night. After I got home from the cliff diving. I made dinner for me and dad. Something moderately healthy and not directly from the freezer. I continued to rehydrate. I shut myself up in my room. I contemplated my current relationship status. I agonised over every possible outcome and grappled with every possible direction Bella and I could be headed in. And I came to some probable conclusions. Had a shower. A very _long_ shower. Cried into my motorbike pillow case. And then got about twelve hours of fitful sleep.

Oh, and I stalked Renesmee Carlie Cullen on Facebook somewhere in the middle of all that. I think it was _before_ the shower.

After lunch, dad and I drive over to Charlie and Bella's. He gives me the once over about my hand. He's concerned about my high school football career. Like I could give a dam about that today. I'm on my way to Bella's house. When we enter the front door dad hands Charlie a six pack and they settle in front of the plasma within about thirty seconds of us arriving. I'm hovering between the other recliner and my father. Leaning on the handle of his wheelchair and sitting half of my ass on the arm of the sofa, I watch Charlie point the remote to the TV, turning it on. The pre-game commentary flashes up on the screen and I try to focus on it. Even for just a few minutes as I get my shit together.

I know Bella is somewhere in the house. Normally she's in the kitchen cooking up something for as men folk to eat for supper. But I don't hear any noise from there today. Then suddenly, any attempt to watch the commentary show vaporizes as I realise that… maybe… she _isn't_ home. She said she would be. But… she also said she wanted to be alone yesterday. And we all know _that_ was a load of bull shit.

After all my torment filled deliberations last night, and still some more today, I have decided that I want to talk to her before I make any decisions. Pussies' way out? Maybe. Some may say that. Embry for example. In fact, that's exactly what he called me when he called me this morning and I told him I was going to talk to her before making any decisions and that I wanted to still be with her. He called me a few other words too. They rhymed with 'duck bed'.

I, however, am going to call myself mature and considered. I refuse to throw out this thing we have so easily. Just like Ness said to me as she stood/sat century over the tequila the other night, if Bella is really worth it—and she is—then she's worth waiting for. So I'll wait for her to make up her mind.

I have always thought of myself as a patient guy, but this waiting is torture. Not even a weekend of drawn-out— break up/make up— or whatever this is and I'm already jumping out of my skin. I don't know if I can make it the rest of the week. I'm feeling tired and beaten and so very unsure of what it is exactly that we do have. But I think I still want to fight for it. Whatever it is. I think I do? I don't know. It may just all come down to how honest she is with me today.

But if she isn't even here to talk about it—well that's kind of incensing. And heartbreaking. And quite possibly the last nail in the coffin.

But this doesn't make me angry. Her not being here instead makes me sad. So very, very sad. I want to fight for us but she doesn't even turn up for the weigh in. This reality has me reflexively leaning forward on my perch on the sofa arm, hunching in on myself as the knife twists. I must be a pussy.

Bella's father turns in his comfy seat of the La-Z-Boy, his focus off the TV and onto me. "She's in her room," he smiles at me, happy to let his just turned nineteen year old daughter's seventeen (and a half) year old boyfriend—if that's what we still are— up into her bedroom. As much as he plays the whole protective father thing, I know Charlie and my old man did some type of happy dance when me and Bells got together last year. I'm the son he never had. And he's like my second father. And the idea of me _actually_ being his son, at least by law, one day. Well, I know they did a happy dance. _I know it_. And the two old women- I mean old _men_- contemplating a future where they might be somehow related… happy dances all around. I just know it. They may just be needing to limber up for a sombre heart-break dance soon.

Charlie smiles at me some more, nodding his head towards the stairwell. "You can head on up Jake. Just leave the door open. Okay son?" He mustn't have any idea The Ed is back in town. I know that too. I bet he thinks I'm just stalling in the living room with them as some kind of show of etiquette. Ugh. No.

I'm just a pussy.

Too sacred to find out if my girlfriend is also too much of a coward to have it out with me. But I'm wrong, she _is_ here. She's _here_. Not out, gallivanting off with him. But _here. _ Waiting for me.

A little weight I didn't know had even settled on me when I thought she was out, is lifted.

I stand, giving dad and Charlie a half smile and a lift of my eyebrows as I nod, trying my best to act as if everything is completely normal. Dad's not fooled for a sec. Probably heard me crying like a sissy last night. And I don't think Charlie is either. I wonder if Bella was crying last night too. Charlie would have heard it too.

I turn and face the stairs. The familiar amber yellow of the polished pine. The worn brown carpet runner than weaves its way up the treads. Up to the hall where I can see half of Bella's bedroom door, it's closed and I know she's behind it. Waiting for me. I'm torn, part of me wants to run upstairs like everything is normal. The way it was only two days ago. Because two days ago, I would have just ran straight up there, grabbed Bells from where ever she was, and wrapped my arms around her, kissing her senseless as a form of hello. Even a little press of my hips into hers, letting her know how just the sight of her has me harder than marble. But today is different. Everything is _not_ normal. I'm scared to go up there. To go up into her room and not be able to kiss her, to have her not _want_ me to kiss her. I'm scared that _**I **_won't want to kiss her. I don't know if I want to kiss her anymore.

I just keep having all these scenarios running through my head. Each one leaving me broken, shattered, alone. Without _her_. I know she said she wanted to spend time with both of us. But already she chose him over me yesterday. She ditched me to have 'some time to herself' but went to _him_ anyway. I'm scared that she'd already made her choice. And it's not me.

From my periphery, I can see the father hens watching me out of the corner of their eyes. My hesitation must be like I'm screaming my uncertainty. They're both still tuned towards the TV, but their shoulders are slightly twisted to me. Eyes flicking back and forwards from the screen to the real life soap my life is turning into. They know. They're acting as if they don't. But they do.

I steel myself, hoping the outward appearance of courage will somehow filter into my actual state of mind. Either way I make a promise to myself that I will maintain some dignity. Sucking in a steading breath, I race up the stairs, two at a time. Just like normal.

I stop outside her room, taking some more bolstering, cleansing breaths. Repeating my affirmations silently in my head. I have my spiel ready. I'm not going to be a pushover. I'm not going to allow myself be used. We're going to figure this out. She's worth fighting for. She's worth waiting for. And by god, she'd better tell me the truth about where she was yesterday.

I knock softly on her door and enter after her quiet invitation.

She's sitting cross legged on her bed with her lap top in front of her. She settles a little on the bed, closing the top of her computer as I pull the door closed behind me. It's not exactly closed. It's not latched. You can't see in the gap is so small. But technically it's not latched, ergo, it's not closed. Therefore we're keeping it open. I'm doing as Charlie ordered.

"Hey," I say softly as I sit uncomfortably on the edge of her bed, our knees inches apart. The curtain of her window is cracked open letting in a hint of the dull cloud shrouded afternoon sun just as it hits the horizon. Her room is washed in a cool blue grey, only highlighting the mood in the space between us.

"Hey," she answers, looking up at me, "I've been waiting for you to come."

"Yeah. I wasn't sure I was gunna. The guys all think I should just run from all this me or him shit. Emb especially."

"Emb?" she asks. She's surprised because she expects Embry to be her defender in all this. As kids, Emb was always around when Bella was at my place. I think he secretly had a crush on her too, but I got first dibs, so being the best friend he is, he backed off. Bros before hoes, even as eleven year olds. He's always been her supporter.

_Yes Embry! _ I think to myself. Is it so hard that my best friend would take my side on this fucked-up mess? I want to come right out and tell her that we all know she was at Cullen's yesterday. But I want _her_ to fess up. I'm giving her a chance. I'm waiting for her. So I change the subject by leading her to exactly the topic that is completely consuming my mind.

"So, did you have a good day yesterday? Figure stuff out?" I'm trying to sound patient, to seem like the cool, nonchalant, metrosexual boyfriend she wants me to be. But it's god-dammed _hard_. I can't help the little bit of caustic sarcasm that gets laced in to my enquiry.

Her eyes snap up to mine, searching, looking at me as if she's trying to read into the cutting tone. Do I know that she saw the Ed yesterday? Or am I just hurt by the whole 'I need to see both men' situation. The answer is both, sweetheart. I'm hurt by both.

She shifts in her cross-legged position, lifting her head and straightening her back and I refuse to break her eye contact. "I figured most of it out Friday night," she answers, as if that makes it all okay. "I went over to see Edward yesterday instead."

"Instead of coming to the beach like we had planned weeks ago?" I retort, not missing a beat. Now that she's told me, I don't care if she knows that I already knew. She's told me and I guess that counts for something. But I know it's going to be followed up with some lame ass excuse.

"Jake. It's not that I didn't want to see YOU, it's just… it's just that I didn't want to see all of the gang. I… I can't. I know they're going to hate me for doing this to you." She closes her eyes, sucking in a breath as she fights the tears. I want to hold her. I hate it when she cries but I don't know if I'm even allowed to hold her. A growing part of me doesn't want to anyway. This whole thing sucks ass.

"I know how ridiculously messed-up this is," she implores, "I know. It's ludicrous really. But I can't think of a better way to fix it." She pleads, shifting so that she is on her knees. Leaning closer to me but still not touching.

"Hey! I know!" I chime in sarcastically. "Tell him he's an asshole and he did his dash when he left you heartbroken and alone and all kinds of fucked up! That you love me! Tell him that Bella! That you're with me! That you love _me_!" I say slamming my chest with a closed fist to highlight, my voice breaking as I traitorously plead through clenched teeth.

"Oh Jake!" she cries, falling back onto her pillow, her legs still curled uncomfortably under her. "I do. I did! I told him all of that. But…" she drops off, staring at the ceiling, a tear falling down the side of her face. She wipes it slowly away, her hand coming to rest above her head. It reminds me of the damsel in distress swoon. Everything is silent for a few minutes. I feel a little better for getting that off my chest. I should have said all that when we were out on the porch swing at the party. But her silence is gnawing at me. I know the 'but…' is still hanging over us. The guillotine has been sharpened.

I slide off the bed, my ass hitting the floor with a thud. I lean against the side and rest my elbows on my bent up knees and just stare at her bookshelf next to her closet. It's filled with texts and novels, a few stuffed animals, trinkets and photo frames. Pictures of us. I wonder idly where the pictures of _him_ ended up.

She rolls on to her side, tucking her hands under her head and her gaze shifts to me. "But I love him still Jake. I don't know if I can trust him, but I do know that I still love him. I don't think I've ever stopped. And I'm sorry because that is unfair to you. But I can't help the way I feel. And I want to be honest. I love you. And what we have is great. And you are amazing J, you are. And I can't imagine a life without you in it. Just…"

"Just not with me as your boyfriend." I'm snarky and sarcastic. I don't like it when I'm this way but I can't help it, I keep casting the hurt into my voice and words at her. Baiting her.

She doesn't bite. She just keeps on ploughing on with what she wants to say. "I don't know. I _can_ see myself here with you. A life in Forks. A family of our own. Dad and Billy clucking over us. Easy as breathing. But I can see myself with him _too,_ Jake. I can see myself living life as a Cullen. Being with the other piece of my soul. We'll go to graduate school, have the picket fence house, live somewhere on the east coast. Living a very different life than one I'd have with you. But different nonetheless. Neither any _less_ that the other."

I've turned my head and we're looking into each other's eyes. They really are so beautiful. So deep and dark and alive. The eyes I thought I'd be looking into every day the rest of our lives. Imagining our kids with those eyes, our grandkids even, the eyes I'd hoped to wake up to every morning. Is that what she sees when she looks into mine? It think it is.

Her eyes close into a tight scrunch, and her lashes press against her cheeks and she swallows hard, her breath rasping before she continues. Then she opens them again, her steel gaze boring into me, her best friend, her oldest friend. My Bells.

"He asked me to marry him Jake. I didn't give him an answer. I don't know if I want that yet."

What the fuck?! She's only just turned nineteen. They're in college. They broke up. For a fucking year! And he comes back and in two days he's asking her to marry him? And she's considering it?!

"But I wanted to know something first." She stops to gather herself before continuing. "Could we still just be friends if I married Edward?" she asks me.

I am so far out of my depth. I can't compete with that.

I don't know why I even bothered.

She's dropped the guillotine blade. We're done.

I turn from my place on the ground. Crawling over to where she's lying and leaning onto the mattress, my face lowering as I come inches from her lips. "No," I whisper my breath blowing over her face as she quails sadly at my words, "we can't _just_ be friends ever again." I've laced so much venom and hate into my words, it even surprises me. I don't hate her. I don't... I love her. But hostility is the only defence I have, next to sobbing like a heart broken fool.

I congeal to my feet, turning and making a B–line for the door before I collapse in a snivelling mess.

"Jacob. Stop. Please!"

The fucking pussy whipped sorry ass idiot I am. I stop. My back still to her.

I can hear the bed sheets crinkle and her feet hit the floor as she cautiously walks over to me. A cool, light hand slides up my back and I can't help but relish the feeling. My eyes flutter shut without notice just to feel her hands on me. And I melt a little from her familiar contact.

She leans her head into the back of my shoulder; I can feel soft kisses up my arm through my t-shirt. "I didn't give him an answer Jacob," she whispers. "Stop jumping to conclusions." Bella steps around to my front, her arms winding around my middle as she pulls me in, leaning her cheek on my chest.

As if of their own accord, my arms lift and pull her even closer to me, her little breasts pressing into me, the heat of her crouch rubbing into my leg where it stands between hers. I breathe properly for the first time all day. Breathing in Bella's strawberry sent. Everything rebalances itself. We're not done. It's not over yet. The competition's been postponed.

I lift my hand up to her cheek, my fingertips skimming over the contours of her jaw and cheek. The face I'm so familiar with. "You're so beautiful Bells."

"So are you Jake." Her hands tracing over my back and around to the top of my chest as she looks up at me. That top lip pouting out like it always does. I want to suck on the bottom lip to even it out. "I've missed your kiss," she says, a hint of a smile breezing on her face.

"I've missed _you,_" is my reply.

"Will you kiss me?" she asks, innocent and confused and wanting me to give her some steady clarity in her jumbled emotions. I don't need to be asked again. I've been waiting to kiss her for two days now. So I do. A small peck with closed lips initially. But that is nowhere near enough—for either of us. I kiss her again. This time, with much a more savouring venture. It's still not hard, but undoubtedly, I'm giving it much more heat. But it's not one of our normal kisses. I'm too scared to let my guard down that much.

"Augh!" she grunts frustrated with my diffident touch. Grasping me with both hands she pulls my face down at the same time she stretches up. "Will you kiss me like you mean it?"

I look at her seriously for a beat, my eyes flicking between hers. God I want to explode! Combust for the heat I feel for this woman. I want to rip that sweater off and over her head and then get her pants following suit. Kiss her like I mean it? Yeah I want to mean it. But I can still hear her voice from earlier echoing in my mind. _She can still see herself with him. And me. _ Is this how she decides? Kissing?

So it's going to be a battle of the tongues is it? That's a game I know well. And enjoy even more. So I push the little voice of reason in my head down, gaging it tightly and without any more thought I squeeze her tight, picking her up around the waist and carry her the two short steps backwards to the bed. I'll give her something she'll want to hold on to. All my pent up frustration and angst re-directed to the hot woman wrapping herself around me. We both fall back and my lips are on hers before we have a second to orientate ourselves. I'm kissing her. And I mean it. Heat and pressure, wet and tongue, teeth and moaning. Hands are all over each other. Her fingers are creeping the edges of my shirt up my back and I break the kiss to pull it off. My lips find hers again and my hand finds a tit. My hand is cupping her boob and rolling in my palm like play-dough as she presses herself into me. It's only been two days but it feels like months and my hard on is almost instantaneous as we both grind together through our pants.

"Do you think I meant _that_ enough for ya bells?" I puff breathlessly, kissing my way down her neck as my hands lift her shirt up. All is right in my world. I am right where I want to be. And she is right where I want her to be. Between my legs and wrapped around me. I push down any thought of where she _really_ might want to be. Because I'm resolute that it is this here… with me… _Here _is where she wants to be right now. That's what her body is telling me. And I'm running with that.

"Not quite enough," she breathes heavily. Her hands slinking to the fly of my pants as the button pops open and I'm released from the confines of my jockeys. I can't help but let out a guttural moan as her cool fingers wrap around my length. Two days is far too long. Her bra has a front opening, it's the lacy pink one, the one I can open one handed. What do you know? I still can. My mouth makes a quick trail down her throat and I latch on to one of those hot pink buds. My tongue makes circles around it as it hardens and contracts. I switch sides, not wanting to leave the other one feeling left out, drawing it in and sucking deeply. Her hands start up pumping around my cock, keeping time with each of my draws as her hand moves up and down.

Balancing on one elbow my other hand makes its way to the edge of her sweats, threading under the waist band of her panty in search of her heat. She's wet and hot, and all kinds of sexy with the rumbling groans she's making from my touch. It hasn't taken me long to reach a point where I'm feeling that familiar tingle. I'm gunna blow my load if she keeps up this rhythm and by the noises she's making and the way she's arching off the bed, I'd say she's not far off too.

"I'm gunna order now Bells. You kids want supreme?" comes the deep voice of Chief Swan from the bottom of the stairs.

We both still our hands, our heads cocked to listen for foot falls on the steps. _Don't come up don't come up don't come up._ Thank Christ he doesn't.

"Uh, ok dad. Yep, sure, Supreme is great," she yells out, letting go of my dick and scrambling to pull her top back on. Shoving me a bit to the side, she jumps off the bed and peeks at the mirror on her dresser, quickly smooths her hair down. She sticks her head out the door and she continues calling out to her father, this time a little quieter, "you need us to go pick it up?"

"No, I'll get it delivered. You two just go on," he says, a nervous twitch in his voice. "Just keep the door a bit more open, K."

"Sure," she says as she makes a deal of opening the door further, the stopper latch making a squeaking noise as it connects with the clasp. The noise snaps me out of my daze. I realise I'm still lying on her bed, on my side. My shirt is still off and my raging erection is thrusting out between the tangs of my fly. I was seriously two seconds from blowing my load and now that the door is jammed wide open, any chance of a happy ending is slammed shut. With a muffled groan into her pillow, I press my dick hard into the mattress. This doesn't help things in the slightest.

Charlie is still at the bottom of the stairs, "Bells do we have any garlic bread in the freezer?"

"Ah. Yeah dad. Hang on. I'll get it for you."

Of course she will. Charlie couldn't possibly cook frozen garlic bread in the kitchen he's fed himself and her in for the past twenty years. He might burn the whole house down. Don't worry about me and my blue balls over here.

Bella scampers back into her room, sliding on her sneakers as she leans over me. I'm still lying prone on her bed, my dick hopelessly pressed into the quilt. "Sorry Jake," she whispers. Then she kisses me chastely on the cheek as she scuttles out the room and down the steps.

She's picked garlic bread over me.

Well fuck me and fuck my life.

I can't believe we were gunna do that. We got nothing sorted out. She distracted me with sex. I feel cheap and used and, frustratingly, still fucking hornier than hades.

This boner isn't going anywhere. With a sorry groan, I push off the bed, fishing for my shirt somewhere behind the side table where I threw it. I slip it on and slink my little J back into my pants. Oh shit, it's _so_ uncomfortable. With the chief of police and his big ass gun downstairs, I can NOT go down there with this giant tent that's at hand. Good idea.

Stiffly, I walk to the bathroom, making sure the latch is shut on this particular door. The sound of the major league blaring out of the lounge room TV is abruptly cut off with the clicking of the lock. The bathroom is quiet but for the summer storm that is rattling the window as it blows against the glass and the shower that's dripping, it's a sow drip, only one every minute or so, and it echoes off the lime green tiles. Leaning over the vanity, my arms braced either side of the basin, I stare at myself in the mirror. What the hell just happened? Was that us making up? Or _almost_ making up? Was that her choosing me? Or was that her just choosing me tonight? Me and my guns. And all the delight that little J gives. Did she distract me on purpose? To avoid a difficult conversation? To avoid me walking out on it all? I realize with a gut wrenching epiphany that I've let her distract me with sex for most of this relationship. I feel played. But The sick part is I still want her. God! What's wrong with me?

I give my face a rub with both hands and move to stand over the toilet to take a piss. With my dick at full attention still, it's basically impossible to pee without leaning right over. I brace against the back of the wall and I find little relief. My main problem is still at hand. And about fifteen minutes later, a good few dollops of cherry sented lotion from the mirror cabinet and a firm grip, I find myself far more comfortable and seated around the Swans kitchen table eating a slice of Papa Luigi's supreme. Yes I washed my hands. God what do you take me for? An animal?

After dinner, the storm is thundering it sounds like I'm feeling; pensive and angry, undecided and raining tears. Bells and I sit out on her daddy's porch and watch the light show as it rolls through town.

"You took your time coming down stairs before," she smirks, giving me the sexy eye through her lashes.

"Yeah well, not everyone can just smooth their hair back and race on down to make garlic bread. " I say a cheekily but still with an edge of bitterness leaked in. I'm not sure if I want to buy in to her sexiness tonight. "Besides, that lotion you got in your cabinet smells real nice." I wink, giving her my best hot-ass smile.

"What lotion?"

"I don't know. But it smelt nice." And at the thought of that sent, Ness's beautiful face flashed through my mind. Where the hell did that come from? It was Bella's bathroom I was beating of in. not Ness's. Ness smells like cherries, I just realized.

Bella giggles and shoves me, winding her arm around mine and leans on my shoulder. It's easy when she's like this. I can forget for a minute about the Ed.

We sit for a while, our backs against the shingled finish of the house, our asses on the wooden decking of the porch and our arms around one another, just staining out at the storm as it rages on out over the coast.

But then the minute runs out and I remember again.

"What does all this mean Bells?" I say. All throughout dinner it's been playing on my mind. I don't feel like I've gotten any more answers tonight than I had when I arrived three hours ago and I want answers. I want to know where I stand. Where _we_ stand. Together or apart.

I'm far less desperate to keep her than I was just twenty-four hours ago.

"You mean almost having sex with you before dinner while our dads were down stairs watching baseball?"

"Yes, I mean the sex and the kissing, and just us in general. I don't know if I'm going to be able to stand waiting all week for you to decide this Bella. I don't think I _should_ have to. I get that you're torn. I get that you think you still love him."

"I don't _think, _I know_,_" she says softly. I ignore her correction.

"But this is me_. Me_ Bells. Me, Jake. What we got… you'll never find another _us_ Bells. We got too much history to just throw it away." But I won't chase after it if she pitches in Ed's direction.

"I'm not throwing it way Jacob. Why do you think I'm taking this time? I want to make the right choice the first time."

Without saying it outright, her words have cemented my fears for me. Tonight was just part of this competition. Just a way for her to get some comfort. Maybe get her rocks off.

"Did you kiss Edward yesterday?" I'm a sick masochistic fucker, but I want to know.

She doesn't answer me.

"Well did you? Did you suck his dick? Or at least try? I bet the good Doctor didn't interrupt you's for a pizza order," I scoff, pulling away from her and shifting up on to my knees.

She still doesn't answer, she's looking at me, a deep furrow between her brows, her head tilted to the side as her features warp into one of apology and contrition.

"Answer me. Did. You. Fuck. Him?" I know I'm escalating the conversation, but I've worked myself up a bit and now I'm in this limbo between resentment and sorrow. And this is how it presents.

"Jake," she cautions. I get she doesn't want to answer me. It's private. But I'm her boyfriend, right? I think I have it within my rights to know who my girlfriend is kissing… or fucking.

"Did you? Did you fuck him?" I'm getting up into her face now, my imagination fuelling my anger and the feelings of betrayal. I know I have no supporting evidence for my accusation, but my gut is telling me otherwise. And I for this, I listen to my instincts. "Or did you just suck his cock."

"Jacob!" she cries, the look of betrayal reflected back in her eyes. Immediately I feel guilty for pushing her so hard, I hate seeing her cry. But then I realize that look isn't betrayal, it's the ignominy of her infidelity and open duplicity. I maintain her gaze, my jaw working as I hold her to my question. "What do you want me to say?" she asks coming up to kneel, matching my half stance.

"The truth would be a good start," I say levelly.

"OK!" she bites back. "Yes, I kissed him. He kissed me. Yesterday _and_ Friday night. We made out! We took our shirts off. But NO Jacob! We didn't fuck! I didn't SUCK HIS COCK!" she spits, aggrieved at me. We both realize together, that she probably shouldn't have yelled that out quite so loud and we're silent as we wait to see if either of our dads are going to come out to see what all the screaming is about. Hopefully Charlie did _not_ hear the details over the rain and the TV.

When it seems safe that were not going to be interrupted, she continues. Her eyes now brimmed with tears, her voice a whispered shout through clenched teeth. "What else do you want to know? Hugh?" she asks her body jerking aggressively to me. "Yes, I love Edward Cullen. He wants to make a life with me. Marry him—He gave me his grandma's ring for Christ's sake. When I'm near him Jake, my whole world is consumed. I can't think of anything else but him. Without him, I'm hollow." She cries, the physical pain apparent as she bends over clutching at her chest and holding herself together like she did all those months ago when he left. "But you… you make me feel on _fire_ Jacob. You give me everything of yourself and I feel sexy and beautiful and desirable with you. And that's a hard thing to give up."

Oh god. It's hit me like a ton of bricks. The reality of what we have. We're friends. Yeah. We're lovers. Yeah. But sole mates? No. We never were and we never will be. Somewhere between that friend-zone and the boyfriend precinct, she's gotten stuck on the sex. Fixated on the way I make her feel— physically. The heart doesn't get a mention. Someone forget to CC _me_ into that memo though.

"You can't string me along because I'm a good fuck Bella!" I exclaim, my hands gesturing off into the dark sky.

"Jake I'm not!" she pleads, her hand coming up flush against my pec. I dodge out of her grasp. I don't want her touch meddling up my head. "Jake don't. You're my best friend. I can't lose you. I can't." She's full-on crying now. Her tears almost matching the rain as it pours in sheets against the tiled roof of her home. Again my resolve is broken at her tears. It comes down to our friendship. Am I willing to give that away? No I'm not. I want her in my life, whatever way I can get it. I feel the fissures in my heart zig-zag along, opening up and waiting to swallow me whole. But I pull that shit together, and I look after my Bells first. Be the friend that I have always been. I'm dammed good at it too. Maybe that was my problem? I was too good a friend.

"Oh come here Bells." I croon, pulling her in against my chest. Into a signature Jake hug—the BFF special. I let her cry it out for a few minutes. I think I know why she's _really_ crying. She's not actually that torn between me and him. She knows deep down who she really wants. And it's not me. I think I've known this all along too. Even before he turned up at the party and turned my world upside down. I just didn't want to believe it. Still stings like a bitch though.

After she's been quiet for a bit, her breaths not much more that a quiet sob, I peel her off me a little. Looking in to her eyes, I do my best to be the best friend I've always been. For over a decade I've been her friend and I'm not going to let this last year of lust destroy our friendship.

My eyes are melting in to hers, she knows I'm giving her this concession, I'm making it easier, giving her my permission to break my heart. With this, I ask her the most heartbreaking question I'll ever ask in my life. "Be honest with me honey. Honest with yourself. If you could still keep _me_ as a friend and have _him_ as your mate, we… us… as a couple, we'd be over?" I ask, pulling her back to an arm's length to look earnestly into her teary eyes. She gives a heaving hitch of breath, her eyes scrunching as she nods her accord, covering her mouth in her hand as a fresh wave of tears hit. The door to any chance I thought I might have had is slammed shut. I'm deposited back into that friend zone. Maybe I never left it. Maybe I only got upgraded to friends with benefits for a little while.

All those times before, those times that I thought that guillotine blade was falling. It was all just a dry run. All that rehearsal of our imminent break up has still not prepared me for the fall. _This_ was the grand finale. Now my blood has been spilt. My fractured heart is bleeding all over me.

**As always, thanks Aretee for the Beta. I added a bit to this chapter do any errors you see are mine after being Beta'd.**

**Thanks for all the kind comments and reviews. If I haven't written back, sorry, but internet connection had been intermittent and I was well and truly overwhelmed by the size of my in box when I got off the plane. Thank you all. **

**I hope you keep on enjoying.**


	10. Chapter 10 Taking back what's mine

_**Last time on P & C's….**_

_It's hit me like a ton of bricks. The reality of what Bella and I have. We're friends. Yeah. We're lovers. Yeah. But sole mates? No. We never were and we never will be. Somewhere between that friend-zone and the boyfriend precinct, she's gotten stuck on the sex. Fixated on the way I make her feel— physically. The heart doesn't get a mention. Someone forget to CC me into that memo though_

_I____ask her the most heartbreaking question I'll ever ask in my life. "Be honest with me honey. Honest with yourself. If you could still keep me as a friend and have _him_ as your mate, we… us… as a couple, we'd be over?" I ask, pulling her back to an arm's length to look earnestly into her teary eyes. She gives a heaving hitch of breath, her eyes scrunching as she nods her accord, covering her mouth in her hand as a fresh wave of tears hit. The door to any chance I thought I might have had is slammed shut. I'm deposited back into that friend zone. Maybe I never left it. Maybe I only got upgraded to friends with benefits for a little while. _

_All those times before, those times that I thought that guillotine blade was falling. It was all just a dry run. All that rehearsal of our imminent break up has still not prepared me for the fall. This was the grand finale. Now my blood has been spilt. My fractured heart is bleeding all over me._

**Chapter 10 – Taking back what's mine.**

After our 'discussion' on the porch… oh who am I kidding? Discussion? It's a break up. No other word for it. A messy, confusing, selfish, heart-to-heart that the western world calls… a break up.

After she breaks up with me, we stay out on the porch for a good hour. We're arm in arm, she's crying for hurting me and I'm trying my hardest not to show her the hurt and to not cry. I'm failing. She knows exactly how much she's hurt me. But she's doing it anyway.

I'm sad and humiliated, yeah I'm all that you'd expect and a bit more. But more notably, I'm confused and a more than a bit irritated at myself at the same time too. I'm irritated because I was too blind to see this coming. Or at least to see how she was never _in_ all the way. She never jumped feet first. She never committed to me with her heart. And the frustrating thing is; I knew it. But the horny optimistic fool I was, I chose to ignore it. I _chose_ to believe that it didn't matter. I'd idiotically convinced myself that I'd take her any way she came. Even if it was just a hollowed shell of the girl she could be. But, only having a part of Bella…that was never going to be enough for me. I'd set myself up to fail. For _us _to fail. She was never going to reciprocate my feelings. Not to the extent I wanted. I'd had her body. Oh God had I had her. But never her heart. I knew it, but I told myself that it didn't matter. But it did. I feel like it's all now been reduced to some sort of torrid affair.

An experiment gone wrong.

I might have jumped on board with the research but in no way was it ever _my_ hypothesis. I didn't _make _her kiss me that night at Mike's Halloween party. And I certainly didn't make her take her top off when we were making out on my couch that night. That was all her. I just followed. Enthusiastically. And she knows it. That's why she's crying so much right now. A guilty conscious. She thinks she's cheated on her feelings for the Ed and she thinks she's cheated on me by having these feelings. She's right. She did. But more importantly, she's cheated herself. She could have potentially have messed up the two most important relationships in her life tonight. I'm not going to let her though. I have it in my power to save one of her relationships. Ours. Jake 'n Bells. The friends who would steal cookies, climb trees and share secrets. We're in there still somewhere. I haven't had much control in our relationship in the last few years. But I do now. I can control this... If I want to still be her friend. And I do.

So I do.

It's kind of weird how easily we revert back to plain friendship. Or at least how she does. I still love the feeling of her warm body pressed against me. Another much smaller body flicks into my minds eye. I realize that I'm not necessarily enjoying being pressed up against_ Bella's_ body so much as my imagination is aided by the familiar prop. Renesmee's smile flickers through my mind. Too soon.

But seeing as I'm slammed back into the friend zone with Bella, I pull back from our embrace. After having been so intimate with her, it's going to take a bit of remembering to keep things PG. Because my imagination sure isn't. But I think my imaginary fantasy girl is smaller.

I'm getting a bit sick of just sting out on the porch. Just listening to Bella's guilty tears and holding her. This isn't my job any more.

But, being the good friend I am, I ask her what she needs.

And in between sobs she tells me she needs Edward.

Way to kick a guy when he's down Bells.

Fuck.

So I give our dads some lame excuse and I drive her over to the Cullen's place. I can't believe it was two days ago that we drove this same road, to the pool party. What a difference two days can make. She's not my Bells any more.

We're talking a bit more freely as we drive. The familiarity of just being in the car relaxes and bolsters. She opens up to me and confesses outright that it always was _him_— I was just the hot distraction. Well, she doesn't actually say I was only a distraction, OR that I'm hot, but who are we kidding? I know she thinks I'm hot. She's told me a zillion times. And if I wasn't a distraction, then what was I? A test subject in the experiment? A strong arm to hold her tight? I prefer to think I was a hot distraction.

In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have chosen her best friend—who was already in love with her— and let the _distracting_ go on for nine fucking months. Mike Newton would have been a better choice as a rebound fuck. Or better still, she should have just invested in a good vibrator.

But that's not how the cards played out. I loved her even when she barely acknowledged my existence those first few years of adolescence. I perused her last year, even when I knew she was heartbroken still. And then, _she_ kissed me, let me hold her, and even fucked me, knowing full well—but ignoring the fact—that it would only _ever_ be physical. Sex, not love making. She could never reciprocate the love I felt for her. We both asked for more than the other could give. This is the way the cards have fallen.

And as I drive up the Cullen's driveway, I find my heart settling with an absolving peace at this realisation. It is what it is; and as coach would say, I need to build a bridge and get over it. It isn't perfect, but this is the hand I've been dealt and… fuck me, Seth's here. And their sitting out on the swing.

Looks like everybody has somebody but me.

"Thanks Jake." Bella says as I pull on the park break. "I know this... this is hard still. But I meant what I said earlier. We have too much history to throw our friendship away." She covers my hand where it's gripping the steering wheel with hers and give it a little reassuring squeeze. "What happened to your hand?" she asks, noticing the brace for the first time.

I refuse to focus on what this might say about a person. That she could have had a firm hold of my dick earlier but not notice a great big fucking brace on my hand. I gnaw on the inside of my cheek to stop the angry smart ass comment I want to bite at her. "Oh it's nothing. Apparently I'm _not_ some super strong giant who can go up against a piece of marble and win," I minimize jokingly. I think she sees the irritation in my eyes anyway.

"Is it sore?"

"Nah," I down play, swatting the air with my left. "It's nothing that a good dose of painkillers and a little time can't fix. I heal fast any way."

Seemingly mollified by my answer— or as normal for Bella, ignoring the real issue— we're quiet in the car. I'd turned the radio off when we'd pulled up, so the air is still and quiet, no noise to cut though the tension I feel building from her. I can hear our breaths as we continue to sit silently in the car. I can hear Ness and Seth talking and laughing outside, their sound muffled by the closed doors and windows. Ness has a pretty laugh. Bella seems lost in thought. She's staring vacantly out the front windshield. Suddenly, she turns to me, she's gnawing on her bottom lip and for the first time in years, I don't find it sexy. I see it as the outward manifestation of all of her inner turmoil. "I miss my friend," she whispers, the hurt six year old I once knew resurfacing.

"I was always here Bells. You just got distracted by my hot bod!" I smile trying to bring some levity into the heavy evening. It's a reflex. I don't know if I have it in me to be angry at anyone for very long. Especially Bella. It works. She laughs a little, leaning over to kiss me chastely on the cheek. Her arms wrapping around my neck as she holds on to me for dear life. "I love you," she says into my shoulder, her voice muffled by the muscle she's buried herself into. Too little, too late. "Thank you Jake."

I hold back the 'Love you too Bells.' I don't want to give her that power over me anymore. So I just kiss her softly on the temple and release her. Let her go. I'm taking back my balls she's been keeping in her purse.

But her arms stays latched on to me. Her arms holding around my neck like I'm her life preserver in a raging Pacific storm. If I didn't know better I say she was scared to go into the house. To go see her Eddie. Then it dawns on me, I remember what she said earlier; that she never gave his marriage proposal an answer. _How could I forget?_

She _is_ scared. Bells had always said she would never get married. I thought everyone knew this about her? How does he not?

He's not her best friend. You are.

"You want me to wait?" I offer, letting her know that her _friend_ is willing to be there for her. Even if it hurts me to do it.

"No. You go back. You've got practice tomorrow."

"You sure?'"

"Yeah Jake. Thankyou. For everything." she credits quietly, the sincerity apparent in the deep chestnut of her eyes. "Good luck back at school too. Big Senior hey? You're gunna kill that AP maths."

"Yeah, but it won't be the same in Biol without you."

"I'm sure you'll manage," she laughs knowingly. There'd been a bit of a scuffle last year about who I was gunna have as a lab partner in Biology. A few of the girls apparently having words over who should get to share petri dishes with me. But the only _biology_ I wanted to share with was Bella's. Looks like I was on the market again. In more ways than one. I wish Ness was a few years older.

Bella moves, shuffling off the seat and opening the heavy door, jumping out. She leans back into the cabin, one hand keeping the door open the other leaning on the seat. "I'll see you before I leave?"

"You don't want me to still go with you and Charlie?" We were supposed to drive the eight hours to Pullman, the three of us, next weekend. I hadn't really thought about it until just now.

"Oh. You can if you want. I just thought… now… with Edward and me… I'll understand if you don't."

What's the protocol for something like this? "Yeah sure. I'll think about it. I'll let you know either way."

"Ok. Just don't let me leave without a proper goodbye."

"Never."

"Night Jake."

"Bye Bells."

She shuts the door, giving me a small wave. I see her chest rise and lower as she sucks in a deep breath, steeling herself. I see the spark of complete happiness wash over her face as she starts towards the front steps. She's tried to hide it from me, but I know her. She's my best friend. And He makes her happy. She loves him. She's _in_ love with him. As much as it utterly breaks my heart. I finally figure out that the only way I could ever let her go is knowing it's for something so much greater than what we had. That is my token constellation prize. Her happiness.

She says a few words to Seth and Renesmee as she passes by them and then she lets herself into the house. She doesn't knock. There is no need. This is where she belongs.

I watch as the light from inside brightens her face as the door opens. She steps through and closes it behind her. And like that, she's gone. The latching of the door taking the last shred of hope I'd been clutching on to. The sensation hits me like a ton of bricks.

We're done.

We're really done.

It's over.

The emptiness of overwhelming. My hollowed out chest is cavernous and drafty and causes such a physical ache in the place my heart should be. I feel like it's had so many painful pieces torn out of it that it's disappeared. Discarded and lost to the pain. I stare blankly out the windshield as I let my tears silently fall down my cheeks.

"Hey Jake?" I'm brought out of my inner sorrows by Seth, he's leaning down to my window, Ness half a foot behind him. I hadn't even noticed them walk down to the car. "You ok man?"

I can't answer verbally. I just nod, avoiding eye contact.

He opens my door to talk more easily while I just sit, still seat-belted in, my hands on the steering wheel as I continue to stare blankly ahead. At the closed door.

"Is your dad still at Charlies?" he asks.

Again I nod.

"Why don't you just go on home? I'll go pick your dad up."

I look up at him. The pity and sorrow for me deep in the eyes of a kid I consider like a brother. I suppose we're related somehow, second or third cousins. But I've grown up with this guy. He's my friend. He's like family. If Charlie is like my second dad, then his mom, Sue, is like a surrogate mother. All three of our families are single parent families and since Seth's dad, Harry, died suddenly last year, we've all taken to looking after each other a bit more. I bite my lip, nodding. I do just want to go home. I don't think I could handle going back to Bella's house right now. And I _know_ I don't want to sit through the last innings of the Mariner's game my dad and Charlie are watching.

"That would be good Seth. Thanks."

"So you guys are over?" he asks. It's not prying, it simply a genuine enquiry. I guess so he can know the best way to help me. To try and map out the mine field that is my relationship with Bella Swan.

Again I nod.

"Oh Jake." Ness sighs, shifting up to the door and leaning in to unbuckle me. "Come here," she whispers quietly, directing me to stand and pulling me in to the tiniest hug I've ever received. Yet at the same time, it it's the greatest. She's pressing her face into my chest and rubbing soothing circles over my back. And the dam wall bursts, I cry hacking sobs into her hair. Pulling the warming comfort closer. Like a teddy bear. Only she's better; she soothes and croons; she smells like cherries and a warm spice up close; and she simply holds me until I'm done.

And when I am. I pull away abruptly, embarrassed by my outburst in front of a girl I only met a few days ago—it's so comforting it seems like years— but feeling so much light for it. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me," I apologise still self-conscious.

"Don't be. Tears a so important. It drives me crazy how guys think that crying somehow makes them weaker. It doesn't. It makes you human. We are people who feel and think and care and we can only cope with so much emotion before our souls get heavy with the burden of keeping it in, Jake. It gets to a point where it's built up in us so much that it has to bubble over somewhere. What better way than from the window to you soul?"

She's brushing my hair back as she says this. The same way my mother did. I don't understand how this little whip of a kid can _get_ me so well. Do and say exactly the right thing. Every time. But I'll take the comfort none the less.

Stepping back form me, the spell of comfort and intimacy is broken. She's letting me reclaim my dignity and machismo. I sniff, making a quick swipe of my eyes, trying to use a slide of hand to somehow fool them that I haven't been crying. "Windows to my soul hey? My eyes are almost black, what does that day about my soul?" I ask jestingly. It's my default setting; Smother gravity with humour.

She doesn't laugh. She steps a half step closer to me. Into my personal space but not uncomfortably so. Her neck is craning up at me and I look back down at her, the little smile I had playing on my face fading by the earnestness of hers.

"Your eyes are not _black_ Jacob, they are a rich deep chocolate brown. Like that rich decadent ganache that gets enveloped over mud-cake. It's sweet, and layered, and full of depth. That's what it says about your soul."

That knocks the wind right out of me. It's unnerving the clarity with which she sees me. Then a kind smile soupçons on her lips and her eyes sparkle with a small dose of humour. "But your eyes are also a lovely pernicious tinge of blood-shot red at the moment. Telling _me_ that your soul has bled enough for tonight. And it's time you went on home." She leads me back into the car, holding out the seat belt for me.

She's babying me. Mothering me. It's exactly what I need.

"Hey Jake?" Seth pipes in as I click my buckle up. "Did Quil tell you about the tickets he got for the latest transformers movie?" I nod. Yes. I know all about the tickets. Quil won them on a radio competition. We was listening nonstop all week, calling up when the nominated song was played. He was a like a man possessed. There are four tickets. They're for Tuesday night. "You still want to go?"

"Sure. I guess." I shrug, not really committing but not saying _no_ out right. "As long as I can call shot-gun." I'm not driving all the way into Port Angeles in the back of Quil's shitty car, I'll end up yakking. But I don't want to let me and Bella's break up stop me hanging out with the boys either. We'll just see how I feel Tuesday after practice.

"I'll give you better than shot gun. How about you drive?" he persuades. "Ness has a job interview in PA that night and she wants us to give her a lift. Your car fits three in the back seat better than Quil's," For some reason I'm much more interested in this movie night now.

"I guess." I agree, trying not to seem too enthusiastic. "You assholes are paying gas money though. Not you Ness." I rectify, "Just the mongrels."

"Good." Seth smiles turning to look at Ness who has moved to stand behind the door. "See I told you he'd be up for it," he says to her, "he'll choose driving over shot gun any day."

"Thanks Jacob," she smiles. Her eyes watching me with an expression I can't figure. Her cheeks are tinting a soft pink and she's licking her lips. It looks like a nervous quirk. It's so fucking hot.

"No worries Renesmee." I smile, starting up the car and avoid looking at Seth who, I'm assuming, is sending me voodoo needle in the eye ball looks for stepping in on his territory. I'm not gunna meet his eye to find out. "We'll work out the time later. I'll give Emb a call OK? See you Tuesday." I say to both of them as I throw the car in to reverse.

"Bye," they both call out, waving and standing closer together than "just friends" stand.

Everybody's got somebody but me.

At least I have what's mine back.

My dignity.

**OK so I know this chapter ends kind of abruptly. But I had to break up a mega chap. Which, if you're all nice to me. I'll post on the weekend.**

**Bella is out and Ness is in. Sort of. Seth is in the road. At least Jakes eye is starting to look further field than the using B#$%h.**

**Thanks for all the reviews last chapter. I'll endeavour to reply sooner this time. (That's assuming I get reviews…which I hope I do.)**

**X Marina**


	11. Chapter 11 - A rock and some pop-rocks

_**Last time on P & C's … **_

"_Hey Jake?" Seth pipes in as I click my buckle up. "Did Quil tell you about the tickets he got for the latest transformers movie?"_

_I nod. Yes. I know all about the tickets. Quil won them on a radio competition. We was listening nonstop all week, calling up when the nominated song was played. He was a like a man possessed. There are four tickets. They're for Tuesday night. "You still want to go?"_

"_Sure. I guess." I shrug, not really committing but not saying no out right. "As long as I can call shot-gun." I'm not driving all the way into Port Angeles in the back of Quil's shitty car._

"_I'll give you better than shot gun. How about you drive?" he persuades. "Ness has a job interview in PA that night and she wants us to give her a lift. Your car fits three in the back seat better than Quil's," For some reason I'm much more interested in this movie night now. _

"_I guess." I agree, trying not to seem too enthusiastic. "You assholes are paying gas money though. Not you Ness," I rectify, "Just the mongrels."_

"_Good." Seth smiles turning to look at Ness who has moved to stand behind the door. "See I told you he'd be up for it," he says to her, "he'll choose driving over shot gun any day."_

"_Thanks Jacob," she smiles. Her eyes watching me with an expression I can't figure. Her cheeks are tinting a soft pink and she's licking her lips. It looks like a nervous quirk. It's so fucking hot._

"_No worries Renesmee." I smile, starting up the car and avoid looking at Seth who, I'm assuming, is sending me voodoo needle in the eye ball looks for stepping in on his territory. I'm not gunna meet his eye to find out. "We'll work out the time later. I'll give Emb a call OK? See you Tuesday." I say to both of them as I throw the car in to reverse. _

"_Bye," they both call out, waving and standing closer together than "just friends" stand._

_Everybody's got somebody but me._

_At least I have what's mine back._

_My dignity._

**Chapter 11 – A rock, some Top 40 pop and a packet of pop-rocks.**

It's Tuesday afternoon, we're going to the movies tonight. We're all meeting at Seth's place at five so we can grab something to eat in Port Angeles before the movie starts. It should be a cheap night for me. I have a buy one get one free cheeseburger ticket from the monopoly competition last month at McDonalds, a free ticket to transformers and I plan on extorting a good ten bucks from both Seth and Embry. Quil gets a free ride because he's providing me with the movie ticket and Ness is free because she's beautiful. What? She is.

But I can't go there. She's taken. Not sure what's going on with the Latino lover on the phone, but I'm pretty sure her and Seth are a thing. It took me four days to realise she's beautiful, or just _how_ beautiful—I call it the Swan. Why wouldn't she? Seth is alright looking. Pretty buff for a sophomore. Not a built as me… but Ok. He's pretty sweet too. He'd make a good boyfriend. I think I've taught him well.

So it's five to five and I pull up outside the Clearwater's place. Quil is already here, his bike is leaning against the side of the house— that piece of shit Celica is broken again, something's very wrong with the transmission. I told him about it when we went to look at it, but no, Quil likes the shiny toys. I can hear Embry coming up the road. Now, _that_ truck sounds awesome. _He _listened to me when we were at the lot. And of course, I helped him tune it— so naturally it sounds good.

Ness isn't here yet, I guess we're going to swing by the Cullen place to get her on our way through.

The three amigos rock off to decide who gets shot gun. Quil wins.

Half an hour later we're pulling up outside her house.

And once again, fuck my life, Bella's' truck is here.

"Fuck!" I say as we pull up.

"I'll just go and get her," Seth says as he jumps out before I've even come to a complete stop. I want to believe he's in a hurry so we can get out of here before I have to see Bella. But the twisted bitter fool I am chooses to imagine he just wants a few more seconds of alone time to stick his tongue down Nessie's throat. I think Quil is thinking the same thing, only that's because he's a pervert, and he jumps out too.

"You ok man?" Embry asks while we wait.

"Yeah. It's just hard to see her with him. To know she really made the choice. That's all," I say shrugging. He pats me on the shoulder. I'm glad he doesn't have some kind of 'plenty more fish in the sea' comment. He knows better than to say that kind of shit to me.

"Well it's her loss man. Her loss."

I nod, not really in the mood for a whole lot of conversation. Not that talking with Embry ever is that effusive. So we just sit in companionable silence while we wait for the others.

"Hey Jake," comes a familiar voice from the porch. I turn to see Bells coming down the front steps. Yet again, fuck my life. The Ed is hot on her heels. I send Bella a smile, raising my head in a hello. I'm sure it's that constipated look again. I really should do something about that, eat some emotional prunes or something. And I let out a not so quiet sigh and I open my door and get out to greet my ex-girlfriend with her ex yet now current boyfriend… no —fuck my life for the third time— with her _fiancée_. She's wearing a great big rock on her finger.

I can't stop staring at that damn ring. The way the diamonds glitter, even in the shitty Pacific north-west drizzle, it's like it's taunting me. I couldn't have missed it if I'd tried. I feel my heart lurch into my throat. My breathing starts to get fast and creeping up to erratic. I have to grind my teeth together, giving it all I have, not to shed traitorous tears.

When she's close enough, Bella reaches her arm up and touches the side of my arm. "How are you?" she asks as I reflexively pull away, my shoulder rising up and I step back a little. I see a little twitch of hurt flash across her brow. Oh no you don't Bella, you don't get to be the hurt one here.

"He's great," calls out an increasingly more familiar and always gentle voice, my miniature guardian angel coming to stand by my side. She encapsulates her arm around my waist, pulling herself closer to me. "Hey Sweetie," says Ness as she cranes her neck up to look at me and nestles in to my side "We'd better get going if you want to make the seven o'clock showing."

My arm goes straight around her shoulder holding her to me as if it's done it a thousand times before, and not zero. I'm so grateful that I barged into that room on Friday night. For whatever reason, this amazing girl has taken it upon herself to look after me. She knows just what I need, every time. And what I need right now is to not be a looser, pining over my ex as she stands in front of me with the man she agreed to marry less than forty-eight hours after breaking up with me. I needed a girlfriend of my own. And Ness is giving that to me. At least for a few minutes. And it's worked. I can't help but hold my chin up when I see Bella's face.

Why, yes Bells! I have gotten over you— I haven't. And what's that you say? Yes, she is beautiful, isn't she?—Yes she is. Since when? Oh you know, since we had this intimate moment when she held me as I cried over you— actually, it was two seconds ago. These are all the things I want to say to her.

Instead, we all stand there in awkward silence, the four of us, me and Ness, Bella and the Ed, I'm partially aware that Quil and Seth are hovering in the periphery too. But I'm so acutely aware of the way Bella is staring at us, like she can't believe it. And even more aware of this supreme feeling of contentment with my arms around Renesmee, I lose myself in it all for a moment. I forget my woes for a minute.

Seth shifts a bit closer to me, and I realize I've got my arms around his girl. I know he knows what we're doing. It's just make believe—though I'm beginning to comprehend that it's not a pretence to me. He's going along with this thing, for my dignity's sake. But I don't need to push my luck – I want to though. My woes come seeping back in.

"Yeah, let's go. Don't want you to be late to your interview. Whatever job it's for." I say, stepping away. Our hands drop but she keeps a hold of the tip of my fingertips that are above the brace. The warmth of her fingers sizzle across my palm and up my arm and straight into my chest. She's standing a foot or two back from me, our hands swinging and I look at her for the first time since she came to my aid. She's not wearing what I'd normally say is typical 'job interview' attire. Her hair is back in in a typical Ness bun, maybe a bit neater than normal. But that's where the _typical_ stops. She has on a pair of dark blue sweats and a loose fitting t-shirt, it's got a really wide neck line, and one of her shoulders is exposed I can see the crop top underneath and how it hugs her porcelain skin. But the weirdest thing is she has these woollen boots on, like moccasins, only longer. Definitely not interview attire.

Turning around, we walk back to the car—totally ignoring Bella— she's pulling me along, again by my fingertips. Without a sidewards glance at anyone else, I give Ness a scrunched-up face look, acting as if everything is completely normal and I'm not on the edge of a depressive melt down. "What the hell are you wearing?" I ask, a teasing, flirty tone in my voice. "You don't have to wear a suit and tie, but Ness, they're not really 'please hire me' shoes! Do you actually want this job? Whatever it is," I add, still gripped that I don't know what the job is, the laughter is bubbling out of me none the less. I think it's pretty convincing. It's not even forced. I think I'm convincing myself all of a sudden too. It isn't hard. It's easy to act like I _like_ Ness. Like she's my girlfriend. She makes happy. In ten seconds my despondency is morphed into hope. She does this to me.

"I won't wear this for the actual interview," she smiles back at me over her shoulder, her eyes doing this flirty little eyelash bat. I know this all a show for Bella but I can't help the way my chest is spluttering a little at her radiant grin. "I have a change of clothes," she says letting go of my hand and motioning to the sporty duffle bag Seth is carrying. Then she walks over to the car, ass bouncing, hips swinging, her pants have the word _Marymount_ printed on the ass in block white Roman style letters. Yeah— I'd be pretty _merry_ to _mount_ that ass.

Those are taboo thoughts. She's Seth's. But after that little display. I don't want to play pretend. I want the real deal.

Seth is popping the trunk to put the bag away and Quil is making a B-line to the front seat. Not happening Ateara. "Hey, scrote face," I yell at Quil. "Back seat," I order, looking at him over the top of the car. "Ness, you get shot gun."

Quil gives me a little whine. I give him a death stare. My car - my rules. That is the law of the 'car pool'. He gets in the back seat, squished in between Embry and Seth. Sucker.

Ness is about to get in too, but before she does, she locks eyes with me over the car roof. I can rest my elbows on it comfortably, I think Renesme might be on her tippy toes or even the sill of the door. It's so cute. "Thank you," she mouths silently. I give her a patented Jacob Black smile and a wink in reply. I shouldn't do this. She's Seth's.

Then it occurs to me. Huh? Why _is_ she thanking me? Doesn't she _want_ to sit next to Seth? Emb's taken, he's not gunna rub against her or anything. Surly she'd be happy enough sitting next to her boyfriend? Then with a sinking feeling of my own naivety, I realise it's still part of the act. Bella's still watching us. And I'm a bit empty again and that confidence I'd recouped in the last few minutes is shovelled out with my heart. My eyes dart over to her where she's now wrapped up in the Ed's arms. I ignore their tame PDA. Don't need to react to it. The asshole is just claiming his territory. You know what, ass face…? The _ring_ is enough of a giveaway.

As I'm ducking back in to the car Bella calls out, "Hey Jake," and like Pavlov's salivating dog to the bell, I stand back up. Oh yes Bella? How can I help you? Not getting your _needs_ met by the Ed? It can't be the love and commitment thing, cause that looks like that's all tied up over there, without me. These are the things I think, I wonder if she can read it on my face. Good. I hope she can.

"Did you decide if you're coming to Pullman?"

Oh shit. I haven't. The first thing that comes into my mind is that traveling in a car with her for eight hours and then back with Charlie is about as equally appealing as to ramming bamboo shoots into my finger nails. I know I said I was going to be her friend. But no… I don't think I can. Not to the level she wants.

"No, Bells. I don't think I can. Football." I say. Or _I don't_ _want to,_ is what I really should say. But I hold my tongue.

"Do you have practice on Friday?" I nod, a maelstrom of hurt and hate washing inside of me. "I'll come by school as we head out at lunch time. If you're not going to take me, then Edward said he will."

I nod again, "Yeah sure. Bye." I say, getting into my seat and throwing the car into reverse and getting the hell out if there. I can't look at her. She didn't have to tell me Edward was taking her instead of me. Not right now, in front of everyone. I honestly don't think she's doing it to rub it in. She's just got no idea how it feels to be dumped.

Hang on? She does. The Ed dumped her twelve months ago. She does know. As she still says stuff like that? Now, I'm pissed at her. Kind of. I think I might be bi-polar or something. I can't decide how I'm feeling.

Once again though, my emo heart wins out. I guess, I'm still pretty beat up about all this. It's happened so fast, even if the writing was always on the wall, I still don't want to say goodbye. A part of me is still waiting for her to jump up, arms our stretched yelling 'Surprise! I'm only kidding! I love _you_, silly. Ed's a dickhead. I'm not going off to college either. Let's run away together. Have sex all day, every day. And I'll love you for the rest of my life.'

I'm bull shitting myself.

The vibe in the car is heavy. This is the problem with small towns. Everyone is so entwined in each other lives. There's no avoiding people. And nothing is ever a secret. Your humiliating dirty laundry is on display for all the world to see. And they all saw.

We make our way through the back streets of town, and onto the main street that leads towards the Olympic Highway. The car is silent apart from the healthy rev of the engine and the tick, tick, tick of the indicator as I turn. I don't think any of my friends know what the hell to say. I sure as shit don't want to talk about it ether.

Actually I do. To Embry, and maybe Ness. But not some big group pow-wow. And not right now.

"Did you see her ring?" Quil pipes in once were out of town and the speed limit picks up. Really Quil? This is what you choose to break the uneasy silence with? I can almost hear the silent moans and eye rolls from the other, less idiotic, occupants of the car. I can't do this now. But I'm trapped in the car and I need a way out of this minefield. And I can't think straight for long enough to think of a diversion.

"Let's play some music!" Ness says in response. Ever my saviour as I nod, still not game to say anything. I'm too afraid my voice will crack with a sob. Turns out I _do_ know how I'm feeling. Miserable. She said yes to him. She always said she'd never get married. And then _he_ comes back, and she said yes.

"Oh, ho, ho. What the fuck is this Jacob?" Ness laughs, looking at the original tape deck of my 1986 Volkswagen. Again, she saves me from the minified, only this time I'm the one setting them. I allow myself to be diverted.

"Shut it kid." I quip letting my lips rise into a smile. It feels good. Better than crying anyway. "It's the original. I'm saving up for a stereo, apparently they didn't have CD's back in the eighties."

"Do you have any cassettes?"

"No," I mumble. I've tried. Dad has an old hi-fi system in the garage loft that you can tape on. Do you know how hard it is to find blank cassette tapes? Really hard.

"Then what do you listen to?" she asks dumbfounded.

"The radio," I answer. A little defensiveness in my tone as I press a few buttons and switch channels before she can give me any more shit—like the fact that I listen to the country station.

Thank the lord that there is a top 40 pop count down on Tuesday evenings. An alright song comes on and before I know it, she over there in the passenger seat, half turned around to Seth and they're singing at the top of their lungs. It only takes a verse and Quil is joining in. Even Embry is nodding his head as the others dance in their seats.

I don't know how she's done it. But she turned the atmosphere in the car on its head. She carries a light with her. Where ever she goes. She lifts people by her enthusiasm for life. It's exceptionally endearing. I can't imagine how magnificent it would be to have that beam of pure light directed at you. You'd be walking on air. I guess that's why Seth looks so happy.

This is how we travel the hour and a half to Port Angels. All of us singing and Ness popping some awesome hip-hop moves while seated. Even I sing a bit as we drive. A few times she catches my eye and she smiles at me knowingly. She's given me what I need again. A way out. A way to get through the night. A way to stop myself from driving right home a burring my head in my pillow. She tells me all this with her eyes, they sparkle and shine as bright as her smile. She is really so very beautiful.

And I mean, beautiful as in pretty; but I'm realizing, more and more, just how beautiful she is inside too. It's so much more than how hot she is. I mean, she is. She's hot and she's got amazing cans, not that she flaunts them though. She's tiny, but she doesn't walk around like she's five foot two, she walks tall; with confidence and grace. It's like she doesn't care what any one thinks of her. Not because she's arrogant, but because she's enjoying life too much to care. She's beautiful.

And when school starts back, every one with a penis enrolled in Forks High is going to see it within one day of classes. It's taken me five. It only took Seth ten seconds. And now she's his.

We eat dinner at MacDonald's. I get my second cheeseburger free. I'm still hungry and I buy a third. She gives her pickle to Seth. We all walk to the cinema. She says her interview is just around the corner, insisting she doesn't need escorting. Not one of us are happy about this. But our movie is at ten past and she says she doesn't need to be at her thing until half past.

We are little early and we're all hanging outside, Seth is still carrying her bag for her—like a good boyfriend does, when she produces a few boxes of candy. M&M's and Gummy bears.

"It's so expensive at these concession stands," she shrugs. "I picked these up at the supermarket for you guys today," she says handing the bags to Emb. "I trust you to share these Embry," she says to a chorus of thankyous and hushed celebrations. We don't want to be too obvious. I think we were going to share a popcorn between the four of us. She's looking after us. I see a pattern forming. I don't seem to mind.

Before we go in, Ness slips a little square packet into my hand, "these'll blow your mind," she whispers, smiling over her shoulder as she walks away. At first I'm a little shocked, thinking she's slipped me some ecstasy or something. Then I take a look at what's in my hand. Pop-rocks. A little mini packet of pop-rocks. I didn't even know you could get these any more. I stifle a giggle as I shove the pack in by pocket and catch up with the guys. That girl is full of quirks.

The movie was great. Anything that combines cars and robots and killing, is ok by me. The M&M's were great too. So were the gummy bears, but I only got a few of them, we ended up throwing most of the squishy candies at each other and then at other people in the cinema.

I haven't eaten the Pop-rocks. For two reasons, firstly, I would have had to share them with all the scrote faces. And I'm not sharing anything she gives me with those turds. And secondly, I want to share them with _her_. So I keep them in my pocket for another time. When I _can_ share them with her.

Ness is waiting for us when we get out. She's leaning on the inner door of the foyer, one foot up behind her, the bag beside her on the floor. I take back anything I've ever said badly about sweats. On her, they are amazing. Her hips curve with them and it only highlights the dip of her waist, her thighs are outlined by the material, accentuating the tone beneath and making me want nothing more than nestle my head between them. The pants are low rise but they've fallen slightly, a bit lower than they probably should and I can see the soft skin of stomach peaking above. It's not hard muscle, there is still a soft roundness about her, but the little line of definition I catch a glimpse of has my memory thinking back to just how good her tight flat tummy looked in that bikini before we jumped off that cliff.

She's taken down her bun and her hair is now out, it's spilling over her shoulder like a glossy brown red waterfall of ringlets, stopping a bit below her the waist band of said, amazing sweats. I know it's wrong, but I can't help but wonder if the colour of those curls match the colour of the other hair below her waist line. And as we all walk over to her, judging by the look on all our faces, I think we're all thinking about the same thing. Even Embry. I wonder if Seth knows already.

"How was the interview?" Seth asks as we get to her, taking her in for a hug, his hand finding that little strip of bare skin where her t-shirt ends and those low, low, _low _sweats begin.

"Good," she smiles pulling out of the hug but still keeping one arm around him. "Hard. She put me through the ringer. I'm tired... But good. I think I did ok. I should know by the weekend and start when school goes back."

I still don't know what kind of job she was going for. It's bugging the hell out of me. I tried my best at dinner to get out of her why she was even going for a job in PA. She wouldn't tell me anything other than it was actually for a job in Forks and she was only in Port Angeles because the main office was here. And that if she gets the job she'll tell me… tell us. She says she's embarrassed. I don't see Renesmee as ever being the embarrassed type. It was frustrating her not confiding in me. I thought I was kind of her holder of secrets. Her substitute Latino lover, not that I'm her lover.

I bet Seth knows. I don't want to tread on the guys territory. But man Ness is beautiful.

I don't think I'm ever gunna get to share. Even if I did. I don't wanna. I've tried it recently; I don't like it.

**Hey all. Thanks you to all the wonderful readers who reviewed last chapter. Sorry I haven't replied. I kind of forgot that when I promised anther chapter on Saturday, that I would be busy being a bridesmaid at a weeding in Italy. How I forgot that, I don't know.**

**But here is the penance, a new chapter. I'll be back on Australia by the weekend so PM's and chapters will be back to normal routine.**

**I hope you enjoyed watching Jake get a little more back bone in regards to the 'bitch who shall not be named' and watching his emerging feeling for Ness start to bloom. What are we gunna do about Seth thought?**


	12. Chapter 12- Goodbyes

**Thanks so much for the great reviews guys. I tried to reply to you all; if I haven't, sorry. But I'm back home now and normal routines will re-commence again. There is no Ness in this chapter, but it's like the end of the Bella era and the second (and better) part of this story can start.**

**As always thanks Aretee for the Beta. Thanks too to Duskwolf for you great comments.**

**So, without further ado; Jake gets a back bone… (in his own way)**

* * *

**Chapter 12 - Goodbyes**

The rest of the week goes by pretty fast. I'm spending most of my mornings at practice. Dad has me painting the side of the house and Mrs. Yazzie across the road said she'll pay me a hundred bucks to service her Nissan bluebird. A hundred bucks to do something I do for free all the time anyway? Even with a busted hand, I'm all over that like a hobo on a ham sandwich. I'm gunna service her car tomorrow. I figure that after today I'll need something easy and mind numbing and that I know I'm good at. Something that isn't like keeping Bella Swan as a girlfriend- which obviously I suck at.

Friday morning practice drags. We've been doing pat and go drills for what seems like hours, my arms are dead from all the throwing and my accuracy has been off all morning. It's hard with the brace. Coach is making me do more and more until I hit the god damn target. But my head just isn't on the field. It's some were over by the fence, waiting for her truck to roll up to say good bye.

"Fuck Black!" yells the running back, Paul, as he misses the ball I've thrown, again. It's not his fault, I threw the ball a mile off from where I should have, again. Like I said, my head's not in the game. And my hand is sore.

"Sorry!" I yell back, "I'm gunna get a drink." Giving up for now, I jog over to my bag, ripping my sweaty helmet off as I go. Paul continues to yell a few more expletives at me, mostly outlining the size of my vagina and that my accuracy is so bad I probably get myself in the eye when I spank the monkey. Fuck you Paul and all your pretty boy dancing.

All the yelling has the attention of most of the offensive team now too. Embry is standing up like one of those meerkats, on alert watching out for his buddy, while the rest of the line is crouched. He's holding his ball into his gut, just watching me. He knows what my problem is.

Ignoring my friend's concerned look, I wet my face a bit and re-tie my hair. I give myself a mental shake and force myself to lift my game before I get myself benched for the season. I improve marginally for the rest of the morning. Quick release drills are more my thing anyway.

Coach calls lunch and we're done for the day. It's just before twelve and I'm in the middle of changing my shirt when the tell-tale roar of Bella's truck comes up the road. A pansy ass silver Volvo following behind. Really? He couldn't give us two minutes alone to say goodbye? It's not as if I'm gunna fuck her under the bleachers. Although I have. Just not lately. But _he_ doesn't know that… I hope.

Well, if he's going to be a controlling jealous asshole, I'll give him something to be jealous about. I throw my t-shirt back into my bag and take my time walking over to them in nothing but my practice pants. Show her just what she's given up. I know I look good, I'm still sweaty—chicks eat that shiny, tanned skin shit up— my abs are in fine form, and my arms and shoulders are so sore they _have_ to be popping.

She's leaning against the fence, just at the gate, her elbow over the cool grey steal post "Hey Bella," I say as I reach her, totally ignoring the Ed who's leaning against the grill of his car.

"Hey Jake."

We stand facing each other silently for a while, neither of us knowing what to say. It's never been awkward between us. At least never before. It is now. I guess you really can't just go back to friendship after sex. At least not if only one of you thought it was love.

"So, we're gunna take two cars. Stay overnight in Seattle then get into Campus just after lunch tomorrow. Then Edward will take a few days to get back to New York."

I nod like I care. I don't care. Yay for their road trip. Hot hotel sex in Seattle. Hot dorm room sex at WSU. I don't know why she keeps telling me stuff like I'm gunna care? The only thing I care about is when she's gunna come home again. Only so I can make sure I can avoid Charlie's place that week. That's not true, I'll probably accidently-on purpose make up an excuse to pick up something when I know she'll be there.

"Well, be safe driving." I say dismissively. May as well be discussing the weather. My eyes haven't left her, and hers haven't left mine. There is still so much we have to say, yet nothing left to say… all at once. I'm playing the tuff guy routine, because I'm not gunna be a pansy ass cry baby in front of _him. _She knows this, I'd say it's written all over the crumbling façade of my stoic face. She looks over her shoulder, to the douche who is hovering.

"Can you give us a minute Edward? Please." I can hear the pleading in her voice.

He pushes off the grill of his car, "Ok," he says, giving her a small smile. "Don't take too long. We want to be on the four thirty ferry." He leans in, hands on her hips and kisses her. He rests his forehead on hers for a breath, her eyes close and they get lost in each other for a moment. She's so wraped up in him she forgets I'm even here. Every time I think my chest is empty she does something that scapes out just that little bit more.

"I might just go get us some snacks for the road," he says to both of us, hopping in his car.

She turns to watch him leave, she watches as he backs out of his space, she watches as his car drives through the lot and she watches until his car goes around the corner and out of sight. She's stalling.

"Wanna go for a walk?" I ask in the nicest tone I've used with her since we broke up. There isn't anywhere much to walk so I nod for her to follow me to my bag. I feel like an idiot without my shirt on now. She follows me and once I'm dressed, we walk side by side around the track.

We get through a good hundred yards, still silent, before I can't take it anymore and I speak up. "So you said _yes_?" My voice breaking as I ask. I was a lucky son of bitch when it broke for the first time. I was thirteen, it happened really suddenly, in like the three months of the summer break and it's hardly given me a squeak since. But nooooo, not today. That bitch of a larynx decides right now would be a good time to crack, sending my voice into the rafters. Thanks body, thanks. I cough, clearing my pussy throat and continue, "You're gunna _marry_ him?"

She's quiet for a few steps, her hands thrust in to the pockets of her jacket. It's summer, it's hot today, but Bella has a sweater on, because Bella is always cold.

"Yes. I said yes. But not yet. Not until after I graduate from college. We're too young and we still have a bit of stuff to figure out from last year. But yes Jake, I said I'd marry him."

"I don't get it Bella. You always said you never wanted to get married? And this isn't jealous ex-boyfriend asking Bella, this is Jake, bff, trying to figure you out."

"_Wants_ change, Jacob. I changed my mind."

"In two days?" I ask incredulously.

She shrugs again, "we've always talked about getting married one day, back in junior year. I never really doubted that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. The formal marriage part is important to Edward and I guess that it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for him."

I smother the irritated snort I want to let out. Sacrifice? Where was just a little bit of that sacrifice on her behalf when we were together? Or even a few seconds before she broke my heart.

"You didn't have to get engaged two days after breaking up with me though." I stop mid stride, turning to her. "You should have told me yourself Bella. Not just wore the ring and hope I'd see it and then that would be that! It wasn't a very nice thing to do. It was actually pretty gutless," I accuse.

I feel so much better for just getting that out. Yeah, I'm hurt by the break up. Yeah, is sucks that she ran straight back into Douche-ward's arms. But the betrayal that my best friend didn't tell me something this big herself, that's what stings the most. I feel better for telling her as much.

"I know," she whispers ashamedly to the ground. "I'd only just agreed and we were showing his mom when you showed up. I should have at least taken it off."

"You think?" I snark.

"Jake I don't want us to be like this."

"Like what Bella?"

"This, "she says heatedly, gesturing between us, "angry… hurt… enemies."

"You're not my enemy," I sigh, shaking my head, my shoulders sinking.

"I'm not your _friend_ though, am I?"

"Friends don't discard the other's feelings when a better offer comes along."

"So were not friends anymore?" she asks, she's biting her lip, trying not to cry. Part of me wants to console her, it's instinctive. But I can't. I've put up this wall and I have to maintain it. For my own sanity. I have to look after _me_.

"We're still friends Bella. Just not… not…" I shrug, not really knowing how to explain it. I don't know how to put to words what we've lost. "We're not 'Jake and Bells' any more. You're Bella, you're going off to college, and you're his fiancé. I'm me, Jacob. I'm staying here. You're not mine anymore. Something got broken last week Bella." That something was_ Me._

"Do you think we can ever be _us_ again," she asks, her eyes hopeful as she looks up at me.

"Just give me a little time Bells. I need a little more time."

"Ok," she whispers, watching her feet as we start to walk again.

We small talk for a bit. Nothing of substance and it's nothing like the normal, casual banter we have. Edward is back as we round the oval. He stays in his car as we get to the gate next to her truck.

"Well, you drive safe, you hear me?" I say, trying to make it light.

She nods.

"And call me or text me when you get settled. I still want to know you're safe."

She nods again, fighting the tears in her eyes. I can't look. I actually don't want to cry about this. I'm done crying.

"Can we at least have a good-bye hug?" she asks, ducking down with hesitant arms.

I sigh, "Sure Bells. Com'ere."

She presses in to my chest. Her familiar arms wrapping around me as she tries to squeeze the breath out of me. Cautiously I lower my arms, they cross around her and I lower my head on to hers, breathing in her smell for the last time in a long while. Maybe even ever. She's crying now. Really crying. Wetting my shirt, snot on my sleeve crying. "Sssssh, Bells. Come on now. This is what you want, remember?"

"Doesn't make it easy," she sobs. Her words muffled through my shirt.

"But you gotta do it, hey?" I offer, the resignation in my voice, sobering her. She lifts her head up, pulling back.

"Yeah Jakey. I do." She hasn't called me Jakey in at least ten years. Not since my mom was alive. "I'm so sorry it's had to happen this way," she cries.

"So am I Bella. So am I," I can't keep the sadness out of my tone. I struggling with my own tears too. I wipe the single tear I've let fall away from my eye and man up. Squaring my shoulders making sure my voice is deep and confident before I speak, I say, "you'd better go. You don't want to miss that ferry."

She nods. Biting the hell out of her lip and scrunching her tear drenched eyes up tight.

"Ok. Bye Jake," she says moving over to her car. She opens the door, and gets in, starting the engine before slamming her door shut. She reverses out of the car space and coming to a stop when she's in line with me side on. She winds her window down and holds her hand up in a short, flat wave. She mouths, "I love you," quietly to me before putting her car in gear and driving away.

I watch as her car drives out the school grounds, onto the road and around the corner. I stare at the back of that piece of shit truck I lovingly fixed up…for her. All the time, effort and love I put into it. Into her. Into _us_. I watch as she drives on out of my life.

"I love you too."


	13. Chapter 13 - On Pointe

_**Last time on P & C's….**_

"_Sssssh, Bells. Come on now. This is what you want, remember?"_

"_Doesn't make it easy," she sobs. Her words muffled through my shirt._

"_But you gotta do it, hey?" I offer, the resignation in my voice, sobering her. She lifts her head up, pulling back._

"_Yeah Jakey. I do." She hasn't called me Jakey in at least ten years. Not since my mom was alive. "I'm so sorry it's had to happen this way," she cries._

"_So am I Bella. So am I," I can't keep the sadness out of my tone. I struggling with my own tears too. I wipe the single tear I've let fall away from my eye and man up. Squaring my shoulders making sure my voice is deep and confident before I speak, I say, "you'd better go. You don't want to miss that ferry."_

_She nods. Bitting the hell out of her lip and scrunching her tear drenched eyes up tight._

"_Ok. Bye Jake," she says moving over to her car. She opens the door, and gets in, starting the engine before slamming her door shut. She reverses out of the car space and coming to a stop when she's in line with me side on. She winds her window down and holds her hand up in a short, flat wave. She mouths, "I love you," quietly to me before putting her car in gear and driving away._

_I watch as her car drives out the school grounds, onto the road and around the corner. I stare at the back of that piece of shit truck I lovingly fixed up…for her. All the time, effort and love I put into it. Into her. Into us. I watch as she drives on out of my life._

* * *

**Chapter 13 - On pointe**

It's Saturday night, Bella should be in Pullman by now. She hasn't rung me yet though. I spent half the day doing the grease and oil change for Mrs. Yazzie, it took me twice as long as it normally would because of the hand brace, but I don't mind because now I'm a hundred bucks richer. What I do mind, is that I got no one to spend it with.

Dads' home, but I'm not wasting Saturday night with the old man. I love my dad, but I'm seventeen, not seventy. Embry is on a date with Raven; it sucks she lives on the Makah res, because now he's never around on weekends. Quil is a no-go either; it's his grandpa's birthday or something and he's at a family thing. As a last resort, I call Seth's place and his mom, Sue, answers the phone. She says he's just hanging out, his sister Leah and her boyfriend Sam are still in town for summer break and that I should to come on over.

The Clearwater's only live a block away from my place so I decide to just walk. I'd know the way there even with my eyes closed. I couldn't count how many Saturday nights I've spend over at their house as a kid. We haven't been doing it as much this past year or so, but when Harry was still alive, we'd have those regular spaghetti nights with the Clearwater's, the Swans and the Black's. And if you include our fathers' limitless need to just watch sports, I'd say I've spent over a quarter of my life at that two story weatherboard home. The other quarter of my life I've spent in another two story, white, weather board house, only this other house is in the next town over. And I'm not going to think about Bella any more.

She still hasn't texted me.

As I walk up to the porch of Seth's place, I can hear oldies music playing. From where I stand by the front door I can see into the family room window. My gut does this little dance. And for the first time in the past twenty-four hours I don't feel like there is a gaping big hole in my chest. Ness is here. She and Seth are dancing around the coffee table while Leah and Sammy sit snuggled together on the love seat.

I let myself in—like I have a hundred times before— and I just stand for a while, just watching her… them.

Seth looks like a retard the way he's dancing all gay like. Especially next to Ness. She's dancing with abandonment. But it's not that floppy retardedness like Seth. She has form, she has skill. In her belly shirt and yoga pants that are siting low on her hips, she's beautiful to watch. They have some Motown music playing and their miming the lyrics to each other. _I've got sunshine… On a cloudy day...When it's cold outside…I've got the month of May..._ They're dancing up close to each other. Her back is pressed into his chest and he wraps his arms around her bare midsection as they gently sway back and forth to the music. _I… guess…. you'd say…What can make me feel this way? My girl. _

"Jake!" Sue calls as she walks into the room from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of chips. "You're here! These two are hilarious aren't they?"

"Hey Aunty Sue," I say back, letting her kiss my cheek like she always does. My surrogate mom. I follow her into the room shaking Sam's hand and giving Le-Le a quick cheek peck as I go past the love seat. Ness and Seth turn around as they dance and both greet me enthusiastically.

"We're celebrating!" Seth yells over the standard playing. He's smiling like a lunatic, swaying and clicking his fingers like a wana-be Motown baby.

"Celebrating what?" I ask sitting on the arm of the three-seater.

"Ness got that job!" Seth says doing a finger point to Renesmee with a wink and one of those double cheek click things. Who is he trying to impress? Smokey Robinson?

"Hey, well done Ness," I say to her. She's a step away from Seth, her attention turned to me, the song and the close dancing now forgotten. "So. Are our gunna finally tell us what it's for?"

"Jake," Seth says, his hands presenting the girl like a show host reveling the grand prize. He's right, she is a grand prize. "You are looking at the newest assistant teacher of the Forks Brach of the Sol Duc Ballet School!" he announces like a proud parent showing his kid off at the local PTA meeting.

"Ballet teacher?" I ask. I would never picked her as the Ballet type. Rich girl rebel? Oh yeah. Hippy save the world chick? Maybe. But ballet bun head? No. I saw that ballet-school movie; they are some dedicated chicks. And they certainly don't go to McDonald's and hoe into quarter pounders, like she did last week in PA. "Is that why you were wearing those hideous ugg boots?" I ask, my brow impishly raised. I decide I may as well have a little fun with her irrational and misplaced embarrassment.

"Shush!" she scolds, swiping at my arm. The fiery zing I feel as her hand slaps against the skin below my t-shirt sleeve has nothing to do with the force of her swing. "I knew I wouldn't have time to warm up properly, I wanted to keep my feet warm."

"You need warm feet to be a ballet teacher?" I ask, again goading her. I can't help but want to monopolize her attention.

"Assistant teacher. And I do when I dance. And I had to audition," she answered a little incredulously, but still with a touch of rosiness rising in her cheeks.

"Well you must be pretty good if they're paying you to teach the children of Forks. Can we see this employment achieving audition dance?"

"No!" she squawked, walking over to the coffee table and grabbing a hand fill of chips as a way of avoiding looking at me.

"Come on Ness," said Seth, "show them," he said, taking a few of her chips as she held them out to him.

"Noooo!" she whimpers, her cheeks now turning a slapped pink, her tone trepid.

"Oh Renesmee. Seth says you're so good!" Leah chimes in.

"Yes Renesmee sweetheart, we could all use a little more culture in our lives," Aunty Sue pleads. "Being out here on the Reservation, I've never seen ballet on anything but the TV. Please. " That woman is _so_ good at passive manipulation.

Ness looks back and forward at us all with our pleading faces. Seth is giving her little c'mon whispers. Eventually her eyes settle on me, she looks a little vulnerable and I decide that as much as I'd like to see her do a pirouette or whatever it's called, I don't want her to feel pressured. "You don't have to if you don't want to," I offer, giving her the out she needs.

"Do _you_ want to see me dance?" she asks me specifically, the doubt in her voice apparent and her posture positively self-conscious. It's a side to her I've never seen. And it doesn't compute with the girl who dove off that cliff last week. I think the dancing makes her insecure. I want to quash those insecurities.

"Yes I do Ness, but if dancing in front of us makes you anxious, don't worry about it."

She regards me for a minute. Her head is angled to the side as she seems to make an internal deliberation.

"You know what..? I will. If _you_ want me to," she says, looking right at me as she does. As if because **I** want to see her dance, she's now wiling. Not because Aunt Sue asked, or Seth. But because **I **asked. "You guys are all so nice and it's not like you're going to critique me," she shrugs as if trying to convince herself.

Oh, _that's_ her problem; criticism. I got nothing but praise for Renesmee Cullen from over here on team Jake. Noting but praise for the way she looks in that mid-drift. Fuck. Seth leans into her, a soft hand on her hip as he whispers something in her ear. I'm sure it's very heartening. My heart feels a painful squeeze as she nods at whatever he says to her. She's not mine to praise. I haven't felt like this since I watched Bella and the Ed at lunch time in the cafeteria freshman year. Yet somehow, I don't know why, this feels worse. Probably because once again I'm designated to being the weird stalker guy just in the peripheries but this time I can't hate the other guy, cause he's already my friend.

Ness pushes the coffee table up against the wall as she says over her shoulder, "I don't have any pointe shoes with me though, so I can't really show you that much advanced stuff."

"Show us that thing you showed me the other day," Seth offers. He's already seen her dance. Of course he has. Why wouldn't she show her far more age appropriate and not mooning over another girl, boyfriend just how _well_ she can move and how flexible she is? Fuck.

"Entrechat?" she asks him as she moves to stand in the middle of the Clearwater's family room.

"Is it the jump with the flicky leg thing?"

Ness just laughs a little, nodding. Then she leans forward, scooting up the material of just one of her pant legs, she has stunning claves by the way, and then she stands in that typical ballerina position, arms extended out gracefully and her feet contorting sideways so that opposite heels are touching opposite toes. It freaks me out to see someone twist their ankles and feet so much. That's got to hurt. I don't get long to contemplate the afflictions of a ballerinas feet before Ness starts doing just what Seth said. A jump with that little fickly leg thing that ballerinas do. Again and again she does it. She's pretty fucking good. Then does a few more up and down thingies, on her tippy toes with her legs standing wide. Really good.

"Relevè's look better en pointe" she says a little breathless for the sudden exertion, before setting her eyes on me and raising her leg out to the side. Her is leg is suspended midair. Like it's simply resting on a barre, only it's not, its pure strength that is keeping it held steady. The material of her harem pants is thin enough that as she holds her leg aloft, I see the sleek long line of her muscle straining from the position. She makes it look easy. But I can see the fine tremors of tension rippling through her body. She goes up on her tip toes again and then begins to spin, with each revolution her had whips around, her eyes remaining focused on me as her speed increases and her raised leg bends in and out. She keeps this up for what feels like a minute. For each twirl, I continue to be her spot, that thing she concentrates on as she turns. I'm dizzy watching her. It's pretty impressive.

I am captivated; mesmerized by _all_ of her.

Then she suddenly comes to a stop, her body somehow in the exact position she started all those turns ago. Her eyes are still on me and she smiles and gives me a cheeky wink.

Aunty Sue starts clapping like a cheerleader, "don't stop yet, can you do something with music?"

"I'm really not warmed up." Ness excuses, moving to sit down. I'm not ready to see this display cease. Not at all.

"Well, let's see how good a teacher you are. They say learning dancing is meant to be good for football players. So teach me something." I challenge, standing up and stepping towards her. Not to be outdone, Seth jumps up too, "Yeah! Teach us something Ness."

"Ok," she smiles, "how about it Mrs. Clearwater? You want me to show you something too?"

"Oh no sweetie, my bones are sore from just watching you."

"Leah? Saaaaaam?" she asks the engaged couple still firmly in one another's arms as they give her a resounding '_no'_.

I'm secretly a little thrilled they say no. Less students to share the teacher's attention.

"So what do you want to learn?" she asks us, but her question is directed at me.

Seth doesn't seem to notice, I guess he's pretty confident she can give him a private lesson later—if you know what I mean. I know exactly what I mean, and it sucks for me.

"Something that looks impressive," Seth says.

"Most of the impressive stuff is really hard. You'll just hurt yourself," she retorts.

"How about a balance exercise," I offer. I have an ulterior motive; one that involves her holding my hand to steady me if I need help balancing.

"Ok. I know," she says clasping her hands in front of her. "You guys can learn an arabesque."

"A what?" Seth asks.

"I know," I say hoping to get into the teachers good books, "it's that leg out thing the top cheerleader does when they're stunting." I pay attention at half time.

"Yeah, but in ballet you have to do it much slower and with more control," she modifies. "You two, stand in front of each other. Jake, I want you to be Seth's support, this is a movement that kids normally start learning on the barre. It's more advanced to do it free-standing."

So I stand, holding Seth's hand as she teaches him how to do an arabesque. So much for my ulterior motive.

He's shit at it too. Can barely stand on one leg let alone lift his back leg up for any length of time.

Then it's my turn. It's not as simple as it looks, not when you have the pintsized ballet Nazi making you do it with perfect technique. I can't help it if my hips want to rotate. _They like to rotate- what can I say? _But she's a stickler for form and she has me doing it over and over until, eventually she comes to stand by me, her hands gipping gently but firmly on my hips, guiding and preventing me from rotating. Her fingers are warm as they just brush against my skin where my shirt has risen. Her touch, as chaste as it is, has a tingle running all the way up my spine. And I can feel the beginnings of something else rising. Ulterior motive back on track. Then when I have my back leg right up, she gets Seth to let go of my hand and… well fuck me! I'm doing a ballet arabesque! By myself.

_Click._

My concentration is broken and before I can topple, I get that back leg back on solid ground in time to see Renesmee taking a photo of me on her phone. Shit. I'll never live this down if it gets out.

"What are you doing? Please don't go posting that. Please." I say stalking towards her. All _rising_ forgotten as I'm over taken with defensiveness.

"What? You're good Jake. You should be happy to show off your natural skills," she says giggling and stuffing her phone down her top. Does she think I won't go down there to chase after it? Cause I will. I'd gladly go rummaging through her cleavage _without_ the excuse of a socially suicidal photo. I'd be more than happy _with_ the excuse.

I can feel my cheeks starting to burn. I don't blush, much. But this. This photo could be very bad.

"Are you going to post it?" I ask sharply, doing my best to hide the sudden surge of anger I feel. I don't like the fact that earlier I tried to help her and not let her be bullied into dancing for us and now she goes and takes a potentially damaging photo of me. I thought she was different. I though she looked out for me. Not someone who would set me up.

"Jake, chill man. She's only kidding you," Seth says, coming to stand next to Ness, his arm protectively around her shoulder.

"Wow, gosh Jake, it's just a joke." She recants, she seems shocked at my assumption of torment form her. "I would _never_ post something someone specifically asked me not to. And _never, ever _as a way to bully. That's not me." She's pleading. "I'm not like that Jake. I'd never be like that." Somehow I've managed to upset her by assuming she's gunna use it against me.

"Here," she says putting her hand down her shirt and fishing out the accused phone, "delete it. Honestly, I just took it because you're good. You have strong form. Here, look," she says, holding it out for me to see. I take a look. It does look good. Pansy ass and gay. But I can see what she's saying. Even in my basketball shorts and T, I sort of look like I know what I'm doing. I guess I may have over reacted there a bit… Just a tad. It's only that with Edward showing up at that party and Bella running off upstairs with him, I've had enough public humiliation for the month.  
"You're really not going to post it?"

"God. For the tenth time; No." She closes her eyes, her hand coming up to grasp the pendant sitting at her throat as she sucks in a deep settling breath. Then, opening her eyes to me, the chocolate caramel depths capturing me as if were the only two people in the room. "I've got your back Jake," she says quietly. She walks over to me, one hand is laid lightly on my chest, I wonder if she can feel my heart thumping under it. She's standing so agonizingly close to me, looking me right in the eye as the other hand… well, it reaches into my pocket. "I'm not Bella," she whispers her head shaking slightly.

I don't absorb her words. I'm too stunned by her hands to move. This guardian angel girl has her hand in my pants. My eyes trapped by hers. But then I bring my consciousness to the surface, gather my wits and hunch over, squirming away from her searching hands. I react too late. She has a firm grip of my… phone… and tugs it out.

"Here," she says, slapping the thing into my palm, "you take a photo of me as collateral."

She gets into the same position she taught us for the arabesque and slowly raises her back leg up. _Click. _ Then she lifts up onto her front toes. _Click. _Then she raises that back leg up even higher, she's fucking almost doing the splits. I have a very healthy appreciation of just how hard that must be. _Click. Click. _And an even healthier appreciating of just how flexible she must be. _Click._

"All right you perv," Leah calls from her comfy position on the couch, "play some music again. I've had enough of watching the budding Nureyev and Fonteyn here," she says, puling Sam up off the couch and making a less than subtle exit as he tows him up the stairs.

Seth is giving me the stink eye. I think he's a bit put out form all the photos I've taken. She asked me to. What was I supposed to do? Besides, it's a crime to have such a tight waist bending in front of you and not appreciate it. Sam is laughing at me over his shoulder as he leaves, like he knows just what's going through my head. He probably does. I'm thinking; Fuck the bro code. I want to see just how high she can get her leg up.

"Play our song Sethy," Ness says, cutting me back to the room I'm in. Instantly my thoughts of legs up and shirts off evaporate. She's Seth's.

I keep forgetting.

At the startup of the music Sue wonders off to do her own thing too. Leaving me to be the third wheel. I really should have left when Leah and Sam said good night. But I didn't want to. I don't want to. So I don't. Selfish? Yes.

Don't care.

We dance around the room for the a while. Well Seth and Ness dance, I watch like the perverted stalker I am from the couch.

At some point Ness hefts me off the lounge, forcibly making me dance. There's no bumping and grinding going on, just that PG middle school standing in a sort of circle as we move. The three of us.

I have no idea how, me… Jake Black, Varsity QB, who just last weekend was fucking his girlfriend against the back of a bathroom door and then getting wasted on tequila, is now dancing to Arrested Development. In Seth Clearwater's living room. This girl has me whipped.

And she's not even mine.

Watching her move for the past hour or so I'm drawn more and more into this fantasy world of my own imagination. She's so beautiful. I don't care that she's probably just fifteen. I feel better when I'm around her. I can breath and my chest doesn't hurt, at least not in that shoveled out way. Just by watching her I feel like I'm living more fully. Her hair is down now, and it's bouncing all around her, she twists it into a loose plat over her shoulder as she smiles and laughs. It's sexy as fuck to watch her play with her hair. Her eyes are happy and open and they draw me in. The magnetism of _her_ pulls me in. She's a model of free spirit. She doesn't conform to convention. She's carefree and a little wild. And it's as sexy as hell.

Bella never danced. She didn't even want to go to her senior prom last year. So we didn't. We stayed home and fucked on the kitchen counter, taking advantage of Charlie working the evening shift. Ness, on the other hand dances, she obviously likes dancing, so she dances. It's as simple as that. No matter where it is. She's like a breath of fresh air. I feel like I can really breathe in her presence. She's so free. Yet still, so completely unavailable.

Ness is freaking good at normal dancing too, like, really good. She's body popping like Beyoncé. And before I know it she's twerking towards me and Seth is running over to the hall to turn the lights down and we've made our own little night club at number 7 River street. He comes back and starts dancing behind Ness, his hands on her waist as their hips fall into sync and they grind. I'm just about to back away—three's a crowd—she's not available—when Ness calls me over the music. "Come here," she says as her arms go up onto my shoulders and I get pulled into the pair.

I don't know how I get here, but one of my legs is bent between hers as we swing back and forwards and we're now in a hip hop ménage à trois. I all but forget about Seth up behind her, she's looking up at me, her fingers pulling lightly on my hair and my hands automatically move to her hips, moving her a little closer. Her smile is warm and inviting and her lips are a natural shade of light strawberry. I wonder if she tastes like strawberry or if it's cherry.

A small tornado of butterflies swirl through my chest and I move to lean in, her smile fading into a plump pout as she reaches up to me too. I feel rough fingers brush over mine and I realize with an abrupt unsettling shock that they're Seth's. His face is buried in the auburn braid falling over her shoulder, resting on her shoulder and his eyes are closed, so I think he's missed that I was just about to kiss his girl right in front of him.

My hands pull away from her hips as if they've been burned. And I straighten and step back, the movement releasing her hands from where they'd sat loosely around my neck. She's looking at me with a combination of shock, hurt and confusion as I step a few more paces back. "I might head on home." I say over the music, clearing my throat and moving to the front door. I can't do this.

Seth looks up from his resting point behind her. "Yeah ok man. I'd better drive Ness home anyway," he says, straightening and making to show me out. Ness is still standing in the middle of the room, the confusion and shock, now replaced with hurt and humiliated anger. I look at her once to see this mien of resentment directed at me. I don't understand it. She's Seth's, she can't have the both of us. I'm not into that sort of thing. Trust me, I tried. "Unless you want to stay?" Seth asks her, noticing her stationary position.

Like she's snapped out of whatever inner thought she was having, her eyes dart to my friend's, softening, "No Sethy, I just want to go home," she says softly.

"Well, I'll see you around Seth, is JV still practicing with us this week?" I ask, as if nothing just almost happened and this isn't the most uncomfortable situation I've ever been in. It's not. Getting caught half naked by Chief Swan as I hid underneath his daughters bed was. But this is a close second. And anyway, it's a perfectly legitimate question. Seth has no idea that I have any reason to even be uncomfortable. He's the sophomore QB and I suppose we'll be doing a bit of training together this season, especially with my dud hand. We already practice together, but not normally at school; we've been throwing pig skins back and forwards between us in the backyard since we were toddlers.

He really is like a brother to me. I feel guilty as hell about this Ness thing. I'm mentally flaying myself for even contemplating going after my almost like-a-brother's, definitely my friend's, girl. No matter how hot she is. Or how good she makes me feel to be around her. It's a no-go zone. I can't do this.

Just a few hours ago I was still all cut up about Bella not texting me. I'm a fickle fucker who needs to make up his mind. I deserve everything I get… or don't get.

"Only on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday," he replies.

"Oh. Ok. I'll see you at practice then." I say, not opening the conversation up any further.

"Bye Renesmee," I call over my shoulder, not game to meet her eye as I step onto the landing. "See you at school."

"Bye Jacob," she yells out from her still motionless spot in the front room. Then after a few beats, she moves a little closer, leaning her arm around the internal banister, like she's using it to hold herself up. "Remember, I'm not Bella."

Her tone has changed again, she's my guardian angel, trying to help me from what she thinks are confused feelings about _Bella._ She's misunderstood. I'm not confused about Bella. She's made her choice and I'm learning to accept that. I'm not confused, I know by the massive hard on in my pants right now that I think Renesmee Cullen is the most beautiful person I've ever met. Even in the way she's casually draped over the handrail but still holding it like her life depends on it. She's an enigma of strength and vulnerability. She's beautiful.

But she's dating Seth, or at least they've kissed. Or at least that what Seth told Quil, who told Embry, who told me. It's as good as dating. She's off limits.

There are certain things I won't compromise on. And integrity and trust are some of them. I won't break my surrogate brother's trust.

I know she isn't Bella. But I won't be an Edward.

* * *

Thanks L for the Beta.

Thanks all you guys for reviewing. I think you know how much I love that email ding.

More chapters to come this week. Big things happening.


	14. Chapter 14 Games, Parties & Party-games

_**Last Time on P & C's…**_

_I don't know how I get here, but one of my legs is bent between hers as we swing back and forwards and we're now in a hip hop ménage à trois. I all but forget about Seth up behind her, she's looking up at me, her fingers pulling lightly on my hair and my hands automatically move to her hips, moving her a little closer. Her smile is warm and inviting and her lips are a natural shade of light strawberry. I wonder if she tastes like strawberry or if it's cherry. _

_A small tornado of butterflies swirl through my chest and I move to lean in, her smile fading into a plump pout as she reaches up to me too. I feel rough fingers brush over mine and I realize with an abrupt unsettling shock that they're Seth's…_

…_My hands pull away from her hips as if they've been burned. And I straighten and step back, the movement releasing her hands from where they'd sat loosely around my neck. She's looking at me with a combination of shock, hurt and confusion as I step a few more paces back. "I might head on home." I say over the music, clearing my throat and moving to the front door. I can't do this…_

…"_Remember, I'm not Bella."…_ she says, _trying to help me from what she thinks are confused feelings about Bella. She's misunderstood…_._ I'm not confused, I know by the massive hard on in my pants right now that I think Renesmee Cullen is the most beautiful person I've ever met…._ _But she's dating Seth…_

…_I know she isn't Bella. But I won't be an Edward_

* * *

**Chapter 14 - Games and parties and party games.**

After the fun of dancing with Ness on Saturday night, the rest of the weekend is boring. Bella finally texted me Sunday morning. She got in Saturday afternoon. I guess she was too busy christening her dorm room with the Ed to find the time to send me on measly fucking text on Saturday. No bitterness _at all_.

The last week of my summer break is filled with football practice and more football practice. Two-A-Days are killers and none of us have much energy to do much after the afternoon sessions. As a last hurrah to the end of the break there's going to be a party on Friday night. I'm not sure if I want to go. I'm stuck in a funk; I can't train properly because of my hand, I'm trying to get over my ex and at the same time trying to not want to fuck my friend's girl six ways from Sunday.

Maybe I need to find an easy drunk fuck on Friday, get both girls out of my system. It's not something I've done before. I've only ever been with Bella. But the offers have always been there. I'd just never taken anyone up on it. I don't know. I don't think the man-whore bit is really my thing. I think I'm more a long term kind of guy. Me and Mrs. Palmer and her five daughters just need to keep on getting better acquainted. It doesn't help that I have five very good photos of the ballerina on my phone. They make a good prop.

Some of the better JV guys come and train with the Varsity team during the week. Seth included. Coach wants him to step up to my QB spot while my hand is still injured. I am _not_ ok with this. I swear, I'm going to have this brace off before the first game. He might get the girl but he ain't getting my position. I'm trying to be a good sport about it but I feel hard done by from everything these last few weeks and this thing with the starting line is eating at me.

If Seth notices my weirdness he doesn't say anything. Quill does though. He bugs me all through weight training. I think I'd rather not have a spotter and let the bar crush my larynx than have to hear Ateara ask me what the matter is one more time. I'm not telling him. He has a bigger mouth than Perez Hilton.

We finish up 'hell week' with a friendly home seven on seven scrimmage, using all the JV payers. Word has gotten out, the attraction of a game and an after party has drawn a crowd. I'm still not sure if I'm going, to the party that is, I'm on the starting line for the scrimmage. _Thank God. _ Embry informs me that Raven is driving up for the party, so he's going. Quil is nagging me to come. He says he wants a wing man. Sorry Quil, I don't think I'll be much of a charmer tonight.

The impromptu game is on a little later than normal afternoon practice would be. And the sun has set by the time the full time whistle is blown. Coach broke up the teams so it was even playing. My team won. Even with the brace, I threw quite a few good long passes to Lahote. At least I have that to celebrate.

After the game we're taking our gear and pads off as coach talks, the general after game debrief is quick. My friends and I are deciding between us whose car each of us is riding in to the party. Seth comes over to us and I end up agreeing to give him a ride. See?! I can act as if everything is normal. Seth is my brother from another mother and there is nothing awkward about anything. Absolutely nothing awkward. Nothing.

"Sorry about that tackle," Quil says to him. He sacked Seth good, took him out just as he was releasing the ball. We ended up in possession and I actually managed to get a decent hand off to Paul, ending up in a touch down. I think Seth ended up with a cracked rib.

"Don't worry about it Quil," he smirks, ego a blazing, "I'll just get Nessie to kiss it better. She's got a magic touch," he says to friendly jeers and shoulder punches. I want to punch him all right, right in the fucking mouth. Shut the hell up Clearwater. Don't you know it's not polite to kiss and tell?! It's definitely not awkward anymore, now it's just pissing me off.

I find out that Ness has been in the crowd the whole time when she and Raven come down to the benches. At least I didn't have a too crap of a game in front of her.

And Seth did.

"Hey guys," she says smiling at every one, "Hi Jake," she adds. Seth is up and by her side before I can even answer, or smile back. Not that I was going to. Cause she's off limits. She's his.

"Nessie, Jake said he'll give us a ride to Paul's party," Seth says as he lifts his arms up to take his undershirt off. Ness gives me a fleeting look that I can't decipher. I can't help my eyes from making a pass over her, she has on a tiny pair of shorts and a simple t-shirt that has a bedazzled pair of cherries on the front. She watches me gawping her and I don't feel like I've been caught, I feel invited.

But then her eyes move over to Seth and she seems to be suddenly overwhelmed by the musculature of her not so much a _boy- _boyfriend. He's taking his sweet time stripping his shirt off too. Yes Seth, you grew some muscles this summer. You're a few years behind the rest of us however bro. And when I mean _us_ I mean _me_. If she likes muscle, I'll show her muscle. I scramble to unbuckle my shoulder pads one handed and then peel my tight under shirt off. Leaving my ripped abs on display. Not to mention the guns.

"Oh Seth, what happened to your ribs?" she cries, honing in on what she was looking at before and pacing soft fingers on her boyfriends bruised chest. Not his muscles.

"See what I mean," Seth smirks to all the guys still standing around.

Well I feel like a dick head. And my chest is tight. I keep forgetting she's his. I hurry to get my towel and go shower. Wouldn't want to be late for the party.

And, I guess she's coming to the party too.

I think I might stay a little longer than originally planned.

The party isn't too wild. It's mostly the football team, the cheerleaders and the girlfriends and boyfriends of said squads. There are a few beers floating around, but Paul isn't well off like the Cullens. It's strictly BYO. I have a soda in my hand and I'm just hovering against the wall, watching all the other couples making out and grinding together. The dancing reminds me of Ness. I haven't seen her and Seth since we got here. They're probably holed up in a bedroom somewhere. The fizz of the coke makes me feel queasy all of a sudden. It might be the idea of Seth making out with her. But I'm going to just go with the soda as my problem. And I'm hungry. I'm always hungry.

I go sit out the back for a bit, Paul's dad is cooking a grill, and I go to stand near him. He's Quileute, but they live off Res, I think he was friends with my old man when they were younger. Compared to us, they have money. Paul's dad has a good job, I think he must have gone to college. He's done more than my old man has anyhow.

The Lahotes sometimes come to tribal stuff, but it seems to only be a small component of their lives. They've integrated. Paul has always had short hair, he always went to the white school and no one would be surprised if he said he wanted to go off to college.

I end up chatting to Mr. Lahote for most of the night, helping him turn a few of the hotdogs as I stay away from the festivities. As always the epitome of cool, not, I'm opting to talk to the adult supervision and empty my virgin drink at an after party that I should be the center of attention of, or at the very least not sitting outside, avoiding a chick I have a crush on. I'm worse that a wet blanket here tonight with all my sulking and generalized party pooping. I think I'm just gunna take off after I get some food. How long does it take to cook a fucking hot dog, anyway?

"You want another drink?" asks a voice I'm starting have dreams about. Guilty, _guilty_ pleasure dreams. I turn to see Ness handing me a new can of soda, still dressed in that little t-shirt with a pair of big red cherries across the front. The air has cooled a little and she must be a little cold from it; judging from the two little nipples high beaming out at me behind that T. Oh man. I'm trying not to gawp but shit. Those tits are magnificent.

"I brought Dr. Pepper." She tilts the can to the side as a form of apology at the fact that it's not… oh…I don't know… _tequila? _"I like cherries."

"I noticed," I say, my tongue thick in the back of my throat. It's my excuse to look at her chest again. So I do. And I have to shift a little in pants as a result. I take the can from her and there is a zap of electricity as our finger tips touch. Her eyes tell me she felt it too. She moves away from the grill and sits down on the little bench seat behind it. I figure I'm supposed to follow, so I do. I sit at the other end of the bench to her, even though what I want to do is lift her tiny frame and sit her on my lap.

I don't though. Because of one word… Seth. She's his. He's not getting my starting position, but I'll concede he's got the girl. She's not making it easy for me though. I don't know why she keeps on seeking me out. With her perky high beaming generous tits and her toned little legs in shorts. It's encouraging, but so very complicating and confusing and frustrating all at the same time. So, for my own benefit, I sit with my ass as close to the opposite far edge of the seat as possible.

"You had a good game considering your hand," she says nodding to the white plastic brace then looking out towards the smoke of the grill that's wafting upwards and sky bound.

"Thanks."

"Are you going to try for college football?" she asks, I'm sure it's just small talk she's making, I doubt she actually interested in all my aspirations.

"Nah, it takes up too much time, I want to focus on academics next year. I even considered quitting this year but, I don't know, I still enjoy it and it looks good on college applications." I shrug, most people assume that a res rat like me is just going to cash my first welfare payment and continue the cycle of dependence.

"Academics?" she asks, not surprised like most people, but instead, for some reason unbeknownst to me, interested. "Do you have a major in mind already?"

I nod, not elaborating any further. I guess I'm used to people just smiling and nodding at my dreams of getting myself up and out, but behind their smiles I see the doubt and their lack of belief in me.

"Well?" she smiles intrigued by my silence. "What? What do you want to be when you grow up Jacob Black?" she's turned her body towards me and in the process has shifted a little closer to my half of the bench. That carefree smile is so contagious. There is do derision or mocking in it and her eyes are sparking in the light from the back patio. She's watching me with expectancy, as if I'm going to reveal I want to cure cancer. I don't.

"I want to be an engineer."

"What kind?"

Her question surprises me. Only the guidance counselor at school asked me that question.

"Mechanical. I like fixing cars sure, but I don't want to be a grease monkey all my life, I _get_ the way machines go together, I get the way ratios work. I want to design and _make_ engines. Not just _fix _them. And not just cars either, I want to see where it might take me. I don't know what I might want to specialize in. I like the idea of bigger, larger scale stuff. Maybe even system design." I taper off, realizing I'm spilling my guts and it's probably just going in one ear and out the other. "Sorry," I say quietly, "I'm probably boring you to death."

"No!" she says kindly, her hand coming up to sit on my forearm. Her hand is warm and I can feel that little zing again. Her boobs are still pointing out the little buds on nipples behind the white cotton. My eyes flick down and then I force them back to her face. I don't think she caught me.

She's smiling like she's just won the lottery. "Do you know how refreshing it is to meet someone who actually has a clue what they want to do while still in high school? Where do you want to apply?"

"CALTEC or MIT would be amazing. I don't think I'll even bother applying for those kinds of school though. I doubt I'd get in anyway. It's so competitive."

"Don't sell yourself short Jake. You should apply," she urges, her little fingers giving the muscle of my forearm a squeeze. It sends a ripple up my arm and into my chest. My other hand comes up covering hers and I _breathe_. She smells like earthy, warmed honey, vanilla and spice. My chest just raises and the air flows in and it's easy. And all is right in my world for the minute.

"Nah, I won't." I counter with purpose, "'Sides, I'm not going to leave my dad. Both my sisters took off after high school and I'm not gunna do that to him too." I don't tell her this for the sympathy vote. I don't want a medal. I just want to be able to sleep at night. And if I'm half way across the country, I'll be plagued by the distance. "I'm just going to apply to Washington or Seattle. I was going to look at Washington State… but… Bella's going there… and… it's like eight hours away." I leave out the bit about the reason I was going to go there in the first place was _because_ of Bella. I think that's just best left unsaid.

She just looks at me for a minute. A slight smile on her face, and I think it's a look at wonder. I'm not really that special. Just ask Bella Swan. But Ness is looking at me like I am. I'm trapped by her smiling eyes, ensnared her eyes that are flecked with those honeyed specks and caught in the long thick lashes framing them. My eyes are searching over her face and I'm reminded again of just how smooth her skin is. It really is like fine china.

"I know you don't think it Jake," she whispers, leaning in to me. "But I think you are an amazingly unique person. Someone I would most certainly like to know better." She scoots a little closer to me, her knee brushing against mine. I can't let this happen.

Swallowing the lump in my throat and wetting my lips, I straighten, "What about you?" I ask. "You sound as if you already know what you want to do when you grow up."

"I do," she says softly, a look of defeat flashes across her features as she sees me pull away. It's replaced quickly by a far off look. One I recognize well, a look of ambition. "I'm going to be a primary care physician."

A doctor, I should have known. Good-on-her for knowing what she wants for someone so young. I had no idea what I wanted to do when I was a sophomore.

"I want to go to UW too," she continues, "they have the leading Primary Care graduate program in the country. I'm sure my parents would have been happy for me to go to boarding school but I wanted to try for just a little bit of normal, for once in my life. That's part of the reason I chose to move here specifically."

"What's the other part?" I ask. From the look on her face I instantly wish I hadn't. She bends over slightly, trying to hide the physical reaction she had to my innocent question. Her hand lifts up to the silver pendent she has hanging from her neck and she absently rubs it back and forth. A soft metallic purr as she pulls it back and forwards along the chain. I'm suddenly reminded of my conversation with her Latino Lover. _She's had a rough year. _ I guess she's still hung up on whatever they were to each other.

"That, my friend is a _very_ long and painful story."

"Well, if you ever want to tell it. I'll listen." I knew there was more to her arriving in the lazy town of forks. Maybe she's as broken as me. She's just better at hiding it.

She nods a little, it's a yes for one day I'll tell you, but not today as it morphs into a shake. She looks up at me, her eyes squinting, and she's biting her lip, "I'm not quite ready to talk about it yet Jacob. I left my last school to get away from it. And I… it's hard to talk about. Like…" she has tears welling in her eyes, "…really hard." Her voice is no more than a strained whisper and I do what any decent human would, I bring her into a hug.

I hold her, without words. My hand brushes down her back in long smooth moments. She feels so tiny as she presses into my chest. It feels like hours that we sit there, me holding her, giving her some support for once in the short time I've known this guardian angel of mine. She hasn't cried, but I can feel the sadness radiating off her. I can feel her take a cleansing breath, her face rubs against my chest and I think she's actually smelling me. It's the fucking most hottest thing I've ever experienced.

On her exhale she makes a contented little sigh. "Do you have any idea how good you smell?" she mumbles in to my shirt.

"It's Rexona," I say trying to make light of the fact that I have by friend's girlfriend in my arms.

She chuckles a little, "No it's not, it's _Jake_—may be a little bit of Rexona, but it's the _Jake_ I like the most."

It's supposed to be the _Seth_ she likes the most, not the _Me!_ This is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong wrong, wrong.

But it fells so right, right, right, right, right.

From this close angle, she lifts her chin up, so it's leaning on my chest and she looking up at me, her neck craning upwards. Before I can allow myself to think or second guess, my lips are on hers. It's short and soft and satisfying.

And a complete betrayal of Seth.

I pull away abruptly. She still has her eyes closed, a slight flush gracing her cheeks. I want nothing more than to just lean in and kiss her again.

Instead, I stand up.

"Jake?" she says confused her eyes opening up to look over at me as I back away.

"I can't Ness. I can't do this. Let just pretend this never happened ok." I say, shaking my head, my hands up as if I'm going to have to fend her off of me. I don't. She just sits there, her hands, that only seconds ago were pressed into me, fall from where they were, mid-air to her lap. A sharp slapping sound as they make contact with her skin.

"I don't un…"

I cut her off before she can continue.

"It never happened. OK?"

And with that I turn tail and get the hell out of there.

I never wanted to go to the party any way.

I never got one of those hot dogs.

I'm in love with her.

* * *

**Oh dear. Not the satisfaction I think a lot of you were after. Sorry about that. (not really sorry) You'll have to tune in next week to see what our heroes do about all this UST. but just remember Jake and Ness are both good kids. And neither want to hurt Seth.**

**On another note, thanks for all the great reviews guys. Thanks to the guest reviewers who I couldn't reply to too.**

**And as always thanks Aratee for being my Beta extraordinaire.**

**The story is warming up folks. Thanks for sticking with me.**

**M**


	15. 15 Secrets, scissors and Snickers

_**Last time on P & C's…**_

_On her exhale she makes a contented little sigh. "Do you have any idea how good you smell?" she mumbles in to my shirt._

"_It's Rexona," I say trying to make light of the fact that I have by friend's girlfriend in my arms._

_She chuckles a little, "No it's not, it's Jake—may be a little bit of Rexona, but it's the Jake I like the most." It's supposed to be the Seth she likes the most, not the Me! This is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong wrong, wrong. _

_But it fells so right, right, right, right, right._

_From this close angle, she lifts her chin up, so it's leaning on my chest and she looking up at me, her neck craning upwards. Before I can allow myself to think or second guess, my lips are on hers. It's short and soft and satisfying. _

_And a complete betrayal of Seth._

_I pull away abruptly. She still has her eyes closed, a slight flush gracing her cheeks. I want nothing more than to just lean in and kiss her again. _

_Instead, I stand up._

"_Jake?" she says confused her eyes opening up to look over at me as I back away._

"_I can't Ness. I can't do this. Let just pretend this never happened ok." I say, shaking my head, my hands up as if I'm going to have to fend her off of me. I don't. She just sits there, her hands, that only seconds ago were pressed into me, fall from where they were, mid-air to her lap. A sharp slapping sound as they make contact with her skin._

"_I don't un…"_

_I cut her off before she can continue. "It never happened. OK?"_

_And with that I turn tail and get the hell out of there._

_I never wanted to go to the party any way._

_I never got one of those hot dogs._

_I'm in love with her._

**You all thought we were done with Bella. Uh uh. She's back for an encore. **

**Only at least now Ness will be there to clean up the mess.**

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews guys.**

**Thankyou L for this chapter. You saved it. You moulded it. You made it so much more accurate. You helped me give it more depth and still with some levity. Thankyou. Your beta skills shine through in this one.**

**Here we go… they kissed. And now Jake is going to punish himself. (If you haven't already realised this folks. Our Jacob, here in **_**this**_** story, has some clinical depressive tendencies. Ness will be his Prozac.)**

**Chapter 15 – Secrets, skates and Snickers.**

After the party— where that kiss _never_ happened— I go straight home. I get a few texts from Embry and Quil asking where the hell I've gone. I just make up some excuse about my hand hurting. I spend the rest of the weekend alone. Either taking lonely walks on the beach… with myself. Watching day time movies… with myself. Showering… by myself. Having sex… by myself. All in all, just being a complete looser… by myself.

By Sunday afternoon, I have stooped so low that I actually call Bella. Big Mistake. It does not help my current state of self-loathing or complete looser status.

I call on the pretence of seeing how her first few weeks of college was. We haven't talked at all since she left and, as sick and pathetic as it is, I miss taking to her. I miss the physicality, hence all the showering and having sex… by myself. But believe it or not, I miss my friend more.

I thought just talking with her about stuff, just shooting the breeze would somehow be cathartic.

WRONG.

"Hey Bells," I say as she answers.

"Jake! Hey. What's up? Is everything ok?"

"Yeah. Just calling to say hi." I say. Do I need a reason to call my friend? "I just wanted to see how your first few weeks of school have been. Did you get into all the classes you wanted?"

She's silent.

"Bells?"

There is silence on the line for a little longer before I hear a resigned sign on her end. "Have you talked to my dad?" she asks, a worried tone in her voice.

"No. Why?"

"Look, if I tell you something, you can't freak out and you can't tell my dad. OK?"

Too late, I'm already freaking out. "OK?" I say quietly. I phoned to get some simple talk therapy, not to get off loaded with Bella's latest crisis. I should have known better. It's always about Bella.

"Promise you won't tell my dad?"

Her making me promise only makes me want to do the opposite. Whatever the problem is, I'm pretty sure Charlie should know about it. "I promise. I won't promise that I'm not going to talk you into telling your dad. Or that I'm not going to yell at you in like, ten seconds. But I promise not to tell Charlie."

"Ok. Well, the thing is…" she hedges, "I kind of… I… I sort of… I didn't start school last week." She finally blurts out after the initial slow start.

"What do you mean you didn't start school? What the hell are you doing instead?" I ask, giving it all I can to not start yelling at her. I can tell by her hesitance that whatever the alternative is not going to be something me or her dad will be happy about.

"I'm postponing this semester."

"Okaaaay? To do what?" I ask again.

"To move to New York," she says.

I take a second to reply. She's following him to New York. Why am I not surprised?

"Are you going to transfer?" I ask, tight lipped. "Will you be able to get into CUNY or something?"

Silence for a few more moments. "I'm not going to go to the state school."

She doesn't need to elaborate. I know what she's trying to say. She's going to let him and his family's money pay for her education. It's something her own father could never afford. The kind of lifestyle I never be able to provide her either. She's gunna get her east coast white picket fence life sooner than expected.

"When are you moving?" my voice is bland and cold. I push all the tumultuous emotions down, down, down.

I hear her clear her throat on the other end of the line. "I'm already here. I moved my stuff last week."

"So you're living with him?" I don't even attempt to keep the pissed off tone out of my voice.

How can someone go from…from… from _**me**_…to 'I don't know what I want' (imagine my squeaky Bella voice here)… to living with _him _in a matter of two weeks? It's so many levels of fucked up. I'm done being the pining ex. She does whatever the hell she wants with my feelings, it's about time I do the same with hers too.

"Yes," she whispers, "his parents own an apartment on Broadway and we've moved in here." She's quiet again. "Jake?" she starts, breaking the silence. "We're gunna get married next spring. I'm gunna start at Colombia with him." She pauses for a minute. I think she's waiting for me to say congratulations of something. I don't. I'm split right down the middle. Fifty percent is cry baby, sooky momma. Oh poor, hard done by Jake. The other fifty is thinking 'you can go get fuck with your private school and perfect life and perfect apartment that could probably be powered by my own _rage!' _ My feeling are divided, so I say nothing. I am savagely gnawing away on the inside of my cheek. My fingers are losing circulation I have the phone cord wrapped around my hand so tight.

When I don't speak she breaks the silence again. "We can't be away from one another. I barely survived the last twelve months Jake, I can't do it again," she cries, pleading with me to understand. She seems to forget that she was with me for more or less the last twelve months. Her offhand comment stabs me right in the chest.

"You won't tell my dad will you?" she asks totally unaware of the cardioectomy she just performed in my already vacant chest cavity.

God I want to be angry with her. Why can't I stay angry with her?

Me and my fucking soft, bleeding heart.

"No, Bells" I sigh, "I won't tell him. But you'll have to tell him sooner or later. You can't keep something like… _your_ _whereabouts_ a secret Bella. If you're really happy and this _is _really what _you_ want, then there shouldn't be anything secretive about it!" the volume of my voice has risen, sometimes she needs some sense shouted into her.

"It's not a secret—it's just I have to find the right time to tell him."

"Does he even know you're engaged?"

Yes!"

"Does your mom?"

She's silent again.

"Bella! You have to tell your parents that you're getting married and that you've moved to the other side of the country!"

"Shhh, calm down Jake. I know. I will. I just…"

She's shushing me? What the fuck? Is she hiding in the closet to talk to me? Isn't she allowed to talk to her friend? Not that I think we're friends anymore. Well, not right now we aren't.

"You're just chicken shit!" I spit at her. "That's what you are."

"OK! Alright! I'm scared, I'm freaking terrified ok! It that what you want to hear?"

"Then why are you doing all this!"

"I not scared of being with Edward if that's what you mean! I'm scared of the shitty life I'm going to have without him. Of the blur into obscurity. I'm terrified of a life without **him,** Jake. And I'm scared stiff that if I tell my parents they'll make me come home or go back to Washington and I'll get sucked into that small town life that I've never wanted."

She says all this. But I'll I hear is that she never wanted me.

I can't listen to any more.

"Ok Bells. Your secret's safe with me. But if you don't tell Charlie by the end of the month, I will tell him. You can't keep the people who love you out of your life, it isn't fair." I take a breath, calming myself so I can resist the urge to slam the phone down. I can't believe she's changing so many fundamental aspects of her life so hastily. I don't know what's happened to the Bella I knew. Maybe I never knew her at all. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"I do. I'd be crazy to pass up an opportunity to study here. And, I know you don't want to hear this Jake, but, this _is_ what I want. He is who I want. I want to live the rest of my life with him, Jake. And I can't think of a good reason to wait. I don't want to wait to begin my life. He is my life. And we're living it together," she gushes. But her speech is contrived and unspontaneous. I'm sure she means it, but I'm equally as sure that she's practiced what to say to the likes of me and anyone from her 'old' life with the Ed. Fucker.

"We'll have a good life Bells. I'm sure it'll be all you hoped it would be."

And I hang up the phone.

And pick up a very large bottle from the back of the freezer.

Needless to say I have a pretty crappy night Sunday night. And in the morning I feel and look like shit. I _so_ don't want to go to school today, but it's the first day of term and I'm gunna go for perfect attendance. Call me square, I don't care, but I'll be the one laughing when I get into my college of choice and get myself up and out of this shit hole of a house.

I pull myself out of bed and take a shower and for the first time in the past few weeks I don't end up whacking off while I'm in there.

I spend a good hour trying to figure out what to wear. I swear I'm worse than a chick. But it's my first day as a senior. I just got dumped by my girlfriend who has secretly moved across the country and is getting married to someone else in about nine months' time and I don't want to look like the depressed pussy that I am. I want to look like I could hook up with any one of the chicks who catch my eye. I don't want to. I'm happy to be single for quite a while. (Unless it's Ness. But that doesn't count because Friday night was a mistake and nothing happened.) But I want to _look_ like I'm feeling one hundred percent.

I'm also having bad hair day. So I stuff the _hacked_ off mess into a cap.

Hacked off you ask? Yes… hacked off. A product of last night and the wallowing in my cesspool of self-pity and loathing. For one, I kissed Renesmee and I want to do it again which me makes me a bad friend and a traitor. Secondly, some of the things Bella said last night churned around in my head. I kept thinking that maybe I'd have had a better chance with her if I'd had more to give her. I can't give her the East coast, white picket fence life she wants. I don't have a hundred year old diamond ring to give her either. The only legacy I have from my grandmother is a higher risk of diabetes, a propensity towards alcoholism, a life on the poverty line, and of course… the glossy black hair. And that is how I found myself leaning over the bathroom counter, kitchen scissors in my left hand as I hacked off almost ten years of growth and a connection to my heritage. The length of my hair cut away in symbolism to the weakened strength of my spirit.

I'm kind of regretting it now. But I wasn't in the soundest or soberest of minds last night. (Yeah, I'm living up to that stereotype, I get it.) Dad hasn't seen it yet. He's gunna freak. Hence, the cap.

So now I've spent so long getting ready for school that I'm going to be late. Well I won't be late. But I won't be early like I'd planned. I wanted to go see coach before school. See if I could give up the captaincy. He's going to be disappointed but, like I told Renesmee Friday night, before I kissed her- which _didn't_ happen remember? —I want to spend more time on my studies. I'll still be on the team. But being football captain is too much work. I don't want the responsibility. I'm not good enough for a football scholarship to college even if I wanted it. But I just might be good enough academically, especially with the minority card I'm going to ride. And I want to focus on that.

So it's ten to eight, and I'm driving down South Forks Avenue. I see a kid on a skate board on the road coasting along the shoulder. He's got on a pair of black skinny jeans and a t-shirt. He looks familiar. It isn't until I get closer that I see the familiar bun piled atop of her head. It's Ness. She's skating. That brief but now evidently important phone conversation with her Latino Lover Boy that day at the cliffs washes through my mind. She needs a car.

She keeps on skating, occasionally lowering her foot and propelling herself further down the road. She's up right, standing on the board, back pack on, her hands limp by her side as she rolls further down the road. She briefly checks over her shoulder for oncoming traffic as she skates through an intersection and straight past the street we need for school. She pops an Ollie onto to sidewalk and then back onto the road again. I wonder where she's headed as I flick my blinker on and turn left, down towards Forks High.

As I pull into the parking lot I look around. There are plenty of familiar faces. Some kids are hanging out on the picnic tables out the front. Some are sitting on the steps. There isn't a space in the isle I've driven down so I turn and head back up another, waving to Emb in his truck as he and Quil get out. I was planning on being early, so I told them to not pick me up. Normally we all car pool together. It's cheaper, not always easier, with practice and Quil's detentions, but most certainly cheaper. I can see the exit in front of me and Embry is giving me the universal hands out in question gesture as I drive on past the vacant parking space next to him and keep on going. Without really thinking much about it I head back out on to the street. And turn left onto South Forks Avenue. In the direction the kid just skateboarded down. I can't let her just skate on out of town. We can still be normal. Nothing happened anyway.

It doesn't take me long and I see her making her way back up the street. It's pretty far down, she would have been pretty late if I hadn't found her. I guess she figured she'd missed the street at some point. There is a slight hill and she's having to push off practically every few feet.

"Hey Ness!" I yell out, pulling into the parking lot of the grocery store and coming to stop a ways from her. "You want a lift?"

"Jacob?" she squints, ducking down and looking into the car.

"Yeah it's me," I call back. "Who else is it gunna be? Come on, get in. I saw you skate straight past the street." I yell, motioning with my head. Her cheeks are flushed from the exercise. Her figure is smoking in her form fitting clothes too.

Nothing happened.

She kicks the board up into her hands and jogs over to my car, hopping in. "Thanks," she says a little breathless stashing her bag and board between her legs and reaching around for seat belt. She's acting like nothing happened. Good, cause nothing happened. It was a mistake and I'm not gunna hurt Seth.

She looks over to me for the first time, doing a double take. "What happened!" she squawks. Then her brows down turn, frowning her dissolution concern at me. "You didn't!?" her voice no more than a breath, disappointment and grief etched in to her voice. She reaches out and swipes the hat off of my head.

_I did._

"What happened?" she asks again, this time with more force and a little anger laced in to boot.

We're still sitting in the Thriftway car park and I kill the engine, throwing my head back in the seat and running my hands through my hair. It's still a shock to feel the short, haphazardly cropped lengths as my fingers feel air far too soon. "I talked to Bella last night and she's quit U of Dub, she's moved to New York, and they're getting married in April."

"They're what?" she cries, momentarily distracted from my hair by her cousin's and my ex's soap opera life.

"Their gunna set a date and she's moved in with him."

"That's awfully fast," she demurs. "What's with Edward? Can't he just leave the girl alone long enough for her to get a degree?"

"Apparently not and apparently she can't live without him and, I quote, 'she can't think of a good reason for her not to start living there lives apart anymore'."

"Ah? How about the reason that he left her for, like, a year? And they've only been back together for like, two weeks?!"

"My thoughts exactly. So you can see why I was in a bad way last night… and … I… I cut it." I say gesturing to the mess of ebony sticking up at odd angles.

She runs her hand through my hair a few times, eventually giving the front a not so soft tug as she accuses, all but crying. "You anglicized yourself."

It's _my _hair I don't know why she's so upset about it.

"I didn't _anglicize _myself," I rebut. "I was trying to not be reminded of all the things that are shitty with my life and I got a bit carried away."

"You think your hair and all that it symbolises is a _shitty _part of your life?" she asks, but it's more like an acerbic reprimand.

"You're taking me out of context," I snap. I don't why her comment bothers me so much. But it does. I feel like I have to defend myself to her. "It not what it symbolises to _me _that's shitty, it's what it symbolises to rest of the world."

"The _world,_ is a very big place, Jacob Black. What exactly is it you think it symbolises?" she's a little too steady with her questions. Like she's worldlier than me, like she knows what it feels like to walk in my shoes. What it feels like to be judged by your appearance and your heritage and not by your actions as an individual. This rich kid with the charmed life—she doesn't know me.

"My hair symbolises that I'm a poor Indian. That I'm lazy and uneducated and my dad's probably an alcoholic!" I'm yelling now. Not at Ness, even though the anger seems directed at her. I'm angry at myself. "That I'll never claw my way out of the Res. That I can't afford an apartment on Broadway. I can't afford an Ivy League school. That I could never be enough, never enough for _her_." I say, the words out of my mouth before I've had a chance to filter them. The realisation that I've cut my hair as some kind of pay back to Bella strikes me. And by the look of empathy in Renesmee's eyes, I can see she knew it all along. She was goading it out of me.

She _does_ know me.

I cover my mouth with my hands, stifling the choked cry that erupts out. I am so many levels of fucked up today, I don't know how I'm going to get through homeroom let alone a whole day of school.

She looks me over for a few breaths, "Stay here," she says as she grabs her purse out of her backpack and hops out of the car, crossing the lot and going into the Thriftway.

Less than five minutes later I've composed myself and I can see Ness in my side mirror. She doesn't come around to sit in the passenger seat like I expect though. Instead she opens my door and takes my hand, pulling me out of the car, again I feel the thrilling zap from her touch. Her fingers are so tiny in mine; and warm. Bella's' hand are always cold.

I see her close her eyes, briefly composing herself before she speaks again. She feels it too. "You look like you had a fight with the barber at an insane asylum and lost," she chuckles, shaking her head. "Let me fix it for you."

And with that, she takes out a pair of silver scissors form the shopping bag and directs me to perch on the hood. She moves, standing between my legs, her hands firmly on either side of my head as she lowers my head down. "You know, I have no idea what I'm doing here," she says as she combs her fingers through hair and starts snipping.

"I guess anything is better that the job I did," I say, closing my eyes and succumbing to the sensation of warm fingertips against my scalp. She's standing so close to me I can smell her perfume, it's warm and homely and oh so comforting. This is how we stand for the next several minutes. Her hovering between my legs as she trims and salvages my mess from last night and me, sitting quietly with hands limp in my lap and eyes closed, enjoying her scent and the feeling her fingers have on my body.

"Done," she sings, a quick pinch on my chin to emphasize.

I run my hands over my hair, it's shorter, but I can feel it's more even. Hopefully I don't look like I used a lawn mower to cut it now.

"Thanks,"

"No worries," she sings, pulling her phone out of her pocket and flicking the screen. She holds it out showing me the live image of myself on the screen. I take it out of her hands, moving it up to see it better. It's not bad, it's short, which is all my fault. But at least now it looks like an actual cut. It's asymmetric but not as much as I had hacked into it and I've got a little faux hawk going. "Wow Ness! It's cool. I don't hate it anywhere near as much as I thought I would."

"As _much?!" _she whinges, laughing at the same time.

"I don't mean it like that," I say rolling my eyes. "It great. Thankyou, I think I can actually take the cap off and not feel too self-conscious now. Honestly… thankyou." Our eyes meet as I try to convey my gratitude… for everything. She's going along with it all. Nothing happened.

"Good. Your welcome." She nods. Smiling that clear, sunshine speckled smile. I'm not sure if she understands that I mean _everything_, not just the hair. I don't get a chance to start that deep and meaningful expression of appreciation though. "It's your turn now." She says slapping the sheers into my palm.

"What?" I shriek, standing up and trying to give her back the scissors. She doesn't take them. She's reaching up behind her head and unwinding the bun she has coiled back there.

"Relax, I'm not doing anything as drastic as you. I'm not an idiot," she scoffs in a less than veiled insult. She's gathering all that hair of hers and laying it over her shoulder.

"I promised your boyfriend on the phone that I wouldn't let you cut it."

Truthfully, I don't give a flying fuck what I did or did not promise her _lover_—her words, not mine. I don't want to get this close to her. I mean, I _do. _But at the risk of sounding Neanderthal-ish, she is Seth's property. And her cutting my hair was the single most sensual experience of my entire life. The tent in my pants is testament to this. And I can't go reciprocating the favour. Friday night's kiss was a mistake and nothing happened.

"There are two things wrong with that sentence. Firstly, Nahuel is NOT my boyfriend, and secondly, you promised him I wouldn't cut it above my boobs. And I'm not."

She runs her hands down her hair a few times again. Smoothing it over her little-big tits, they look amazing under that t-shirt by the way. Not that I'm looking. "So cut it off below my boobs, Jacob." She's holding her hair, griping it with both fists, holding up the space of copper brown strands for me to cut through.

Feeling like I don't have much of a choice in this matter, I turn the scissors around in my left hand, they're small and squishy around my giant fingers. It's awkward left handed, then I realise I have them upside-down. _Amateur_. So flipping them around, my fingers fit into the holes marginally better. The blades are open and I hover them over her locks. "You sure about this?" I ask, hesitating. I don't want her cutting her Rapunzel tresses as some sort of gesture of solidarity.

"Yes I'm sure. Cut it already," she urges, not sounding as if she's sure at all.

"You don't sound sure."

"I am."

I give her a look of scepticism, one brow arching up. I practiced that baby in the mirror all of ninth grade. Finally paying off.

"_I am!"_ she insists. "I just… I've never had it cut and... I don't know… it feels like a waist to just toss it out."

A thought occurs to me. "Hang on," I say, shoving the scissors into my back pocket and moving back in to my car, reaching over to the glove compartment and sorting through it.

"Here." I smile holding out a rubber band and peeling her fingers from her pony tail. I smooth out her hair, it so soft, I like the way the curls bump under my palm. I tie the band a few inches below her boobs. My hands are _way_ too close to those puppies. I could just shift my hand, just an inch and my knuckles could brush against those knockers.

"Don't even think about it.," she warns, looking up at me through her lashes, a sultry smirk on her lips. I guess she gets her fair share of teenage boys staring at her tits. She knows how to follow a line of sight. I get the distinct feeling though, that it's opposite day today and all she wants is for me to get a great big handful. Oh shit. I'm in way too deep here. I forgot for a few minutes there that I'm supposed to be sad over Bella still, oh and Seth is already on first base and I can't steal second. I can't. I shouldn't. I want to... But I won't. I can be her friend. I can.

Friday night was a mistake and nothing happened.

As I tie the last loop of the band around her hair, I'm biting my lip. I'm so fucking torn, my dick is killing me, and I can't hold these miniature scissors in my good hand for shit. "You cut it Ness, I'm too spastic left handed. I'll hold the top bit."

"Ok" she sighs, taking the shears from me and holding the lower portion of her hair. "Ok, ok, ok." She says out in one breath, as she works herself up to it.

"You don't have to do this," I whisper quietly. Our heads are close together and we're inside our own little bubble as we stand in the parking lot of Forks' largest grocery store, now at least fifteen minutes late for school. She looks up at me, her hazelnut eyes full of her strength and her vulnerability… and wisdom measured beyond her years. I see her jaw set, the little muscles to the side of her porcelain cheek, tensing with determination.

"I want to," she whispers back, looking back down to her hair, "I _have_ to—for Angelus," and in one clean, long slice, her hair falls away.

She holds the amputated ponytail up; it swings and the curls bounce with the movement. There is a lot more red in it than I'd realised as she holds it up into the sunlight like a trophy, the way I've seen my father hold up a fish he's caught after hours on the river. The smile on her lips is brilliant, I feel honoured to be able to share in this moment of liberation with her. I don't quite understand its significance to her or who Angelus is, but I know it is significant nevertheless. And I'm honoured.

The remaining hair has fallen over her shoulders, spilling over those mountains on her chest. If it's at all possible, they look even bigger now. I supress the hot shiver that runs thorough me. One word… Seth. Not going to be one of those guys. You know, one of those guys… that if you were a girl, you'd be called a slut but because you a guy it's somehow ok, but really your just an asshole and a bad friend. Not gunna be one of those guys.

Friday night was a mistake and it never happened.

She has her hair divided evenly over both tits. It's torture. And she's cutting a little more off one side, evening it up. It's my free-ticket to watch her tits, cause… I not… I'm just watching the area that she's cutting… I am!

When she's done trimming, she picks up the shopping bag from the Thriftway and empties out two candy bars and a tube of lip-gloss, lowering her tied up, severed curls into the white plastic for safe keeping.

"Here," she says, slapping a Snickers into my hand and jumping up to sit on the bonnet of my car, "I bought us chocolate. I know after Nahuel broke up with his _boyfriend_," she stresses, proving the point that Latino lover is, in fact, NOT _her_ lover, "the only thing that helped was chocolate."

He's gay? It that what she's saying? Nothing more than her friend? The little flutter of excitement seeps into my gut. Then I remember Seth and I toss some cold water onto that little flame that keeps wanting to re-ignite. "What? You think I'm some kind of depressed Emo?"

She watches me as if trying to make a decision, her hands are raking through her still long but now less freakishly-long hair. What I wouldn't give to see what it feels like to run my fingers through her hair. The Velcro on my brace would probably just catch and I'd hurt her. And then I'd hurt Seth.

I'm broken out of my follicle ogling by her answer to my earlier question. "Emo..? No. Depressed..? I don't know; not yet, and not at _all,_ if I can help it," she smiles, flicking her finger to my candy bar, "eat up, it's the breakfast of champions."

"And apparently very satisfying," I reply. Oh how original Black, you lame-ass, short haired, depressed emo cry baby you.

"That's what I've heard," she grins, laughing quietly at my lameness as she opens her own wrapper and takes a bite. "Yep, very satisfying."

We sit side by side on the hood of my car, chewing on the peanut nougaty goodness. I think we're finally at a place where it's a little less weird. We're back to friends. I hope. If could change one thing since the day I first met Ness; I would have held her that day at La Push. I would have told Bella she could take her uncertainty and shove it. That day we stood pressed together on the back of Embry's truck, if I could change one thing, I wouldn't have pulled away from Renesmee. And then she wouldn't have been Seth's. Instead she'd be mine.

There is something about just being next to her that just makes me feel better. It's not even the things she says or does, it's just being alongside her. As if our energies vibrate on the same frequency and there is harmony in the space between us.

I feel comfortable. Aside from the kiss that didn't happen, I'm really starting to consider this girl a friend. I truly belief we can at the least be friends. She never has to know the depth of my budding feelings.

She just makes me feel comfortable and at peace.

So what do I do? I go and wreck it.

"So," I ask, one hundred percent, completely, wrecking the comfort, "Who's Angelus?"


	16. Chapter 16 - Nessie's Point of View

_**Last time on P & C's...**_

_"You look like you had a fight with the barber at an insane asylum and lost," she chuckles, shaking her head. "Let me fix it for you."_

_And with that, she takes out a pair of silver scissors form the shopping bag and directs me to perch on the hood. She moves, standing between my legs, her hands firmly on either side of my head as she lowers my head down. "You know, I have no idea what I'm doing here," she says as she combs her fingers through hair and starts snipping._

_"I guess anything is better that the job I did," I say, closing my eyes and succumbing to the sensation of warm fingertips against my scalp. She's standing so close to me I can smell her perfume, it's warm and homely and oh so comforting. This is how we stand for the next several minutes. Her hovering between my legs as she trims and salvages my mess from last night and me, sitting quietly with hands limp in my lap and eyes closed, enjoying her scent and the feeling her fingers have on my body... _

_There is something about just being next to her that just makes me feel better. It's not even the things she says or does, it's just being alongside her. As if our energies vibrate on the same frequency and there is harmony in the space between us._

_ I feel comfortable. Aside from the kiss that didn't happen, I'm really starting to consider this girl a friend. I truly belief we can at the least be friends. She never has to know the depth of my budding feelings._

_She just makes me feel comfortable and at peace._

_So what do I do? I go and wreck it._

_"So," I ask, one hundred percent, completely, wrecking the comfort, "Who's Angelus?"..._

* * *

**Chapter 16 - Nessie's point of view**

"So," he asks like it hasn't been bothering him the whole time, "who's Angelus?" He's looking out over the parking lot, I can tell he's dying to watch my face but he doesn't want to give away how much he wants to. Tough luck big guy, I already know.

I suck in a big breath and shift a little on the warm bonnet of his little red car. I don't know why he has a little car like this one. Jake strikes me as more of a big, jacked up, _truck_ kind of guy. I'll have to ask him. But he asked me first. Who's Angelus? Who _was_ Angelus?

I'm stalling.

I just knew he was going to ask me about _him._ As soon as I said that quiet prayer as I cut my hair, I knew Jacob wouldn't be able to just leave it be.

I don't mind. As painful as it is to talk about him, I can't deny the urge to share with this man beside me.

So gathering up all the courage I have left over these last twelve months. I turn slightly, my hand leaning casually behind me as I prepare to spill. Nothing _casual_ about it though.

"I suppose that if I tell you about Angelus, I have to tell you about _Luca_ first." I see Jacob glimpse cautiously sideways at me, our eyes meet for a second. I give him my best, most confident smile, like I have no problem taking about all of this. My heart is racing like it's derby day though, and I can feel my mouth desiccating by the millisecond. The word 'cowardice' comes to mind.

I normally don't care so much about what other people think about me. I am who I am. And they can take me or leave me as I am too. But with Jake... I do... it's lame and juvenile, but I want to be liked by him, _desperately_. I want for him to like me and accept me and know all of my dirty little secrets and still feel the same feelings anyway. I want to be his friend, his confidant... his lover. Boy, what I wouldn't give to be his lover. I swear my nanny in Ukraine, Sveta, could have washed on those abs of his. _I _want to wash on those abs of his. I have a feeling though, that with that selfish banshee of an ex, that he's sworn off women all together. Okay, we wouldn't have to be _lovers_, I'd easily settle for _girlfriend_... Hell, I'm so enthralled by this amazing guy that even _friends_ just might tide me over for a while. But only a little while.

I'm still stalling.

I'm only stalling though because I know that all my adolescent infatuations will all be null and void if I scare him off with my crap life story. But I can't tell him the crap life story if I don't have the guts to actually talk.

I've just got to gather up a little more of that courage and slog on through.

And I do..."Luca was my boyfriend in tenth grade."

"Tenth grade?" he buts in. "I thought you were a freshman?"

Really? After all the time I've spend with the knuckle head I though he would have at least figured out my age. It's my biggest handicap in life, being so short. What I wouldn't give for half a foot more. Even just two inches would be nice.

"You think I'm a freshman?" I ask, letting myself be distracted from what I was about to delve into. A synonym of stalling.

"Oh sorry, you must be a Junior now."

"Really?!" I screech in indignation, pushing my newly trimmed hair off my face as it falls about, over my eyes. I'm not stalling now, I really am shocked and surprised that he thinks I'm just a little kid. I thought we _got_ each other.

"What?" he asks in confusion. "What did I say?"

"Why have you assumed I'm twelve years old?" I cry out to the cloud covered sky above us in frustration. "I'm a senior for crying out loud!"

He looks surprised for a moment, assessing me and covertly giving my tits the once over before his gaze settles back to my eyes. He wasn't very covert about it though, I totally saw him perving. S'okay by me.

He just watches me for a few beats of my racing heart. And I feel myself get sucked into the deep melted depth of his deep and melting heart. Then his pupils contract infinitesimally, hardening and barricading before relaxing and he gets that teasing twinkle in his eye. It's an easy twinkle I've really only seen him have around his friends.

I think we just became friends. "Well in my defense," he starts, "you are kind of shor…"

"Don't you dare!" I cut him off, pointing my finger at him. He seems to think it's freaking hilarious, that blindingly perfect smile of his beaming over to me. The damn thing is contagious and I find myself smiling right back at him.

"Sorry, Sorry," he laughs, trying to set us back on track to the heavy conversation we'd just started. He makes me forget. Even for a moment. That's what I love about this man. "I interrupted," he apologies, "keep going. Please. You were saying about your tenth grade boyfriend," he mollifies, his voice deep and rumbly, it makes my insides all gooey. It hurts my heart to think about how damaged his beautiful soul is. I've only met this Bella Swan in passing, but one day I'll tell her how badly she did. Poor form all around from her _and_ Eddie. Poor form.

Stalling.

I suck in breath, square off my shoulders, and continue on with my crap life story. I can do this. Just tell a story, don't become emotionally involved in it. Disregard the fact that I _am_ emotionally invested in it, because it's _my_ story.

"Okay, so Luca was my boyfriend for a good portion of tenth grade and for the first bit of eleventh. We were nothing special, not in love if you know what I mean. But he was popular, I was popular, we just seemed to fit. We… how do I say this?"

You say it by just spitting it out Ness.

I've linked my fingers in front of me and the ball of my fists are shoved heavily into my gut. Jake must notice because he turns towards me, taking my hands from where I have them stuffed into my belly and gently pries my fingers form their tangled mass of anxious digits.

"You don't have to tell me Ness. It's okay." His eyes are do deep and dark and I just want to get lost in them for a minute again or a maybe for a life time. My fingers tingle from where he's holding them. I don't dare pull them away and he doesn't move to do so either.

"No. I want to tell you." I can't explain the connection I feel for him. I want so badly to tell him as much. But every time I get closer, he pulls away. The energy flowing through our hands is distracting. Distracting, but in a good way—It's heartening and re-energizing.

I want him to know this story I have hidden inside of me. I want Jake to know about _him_ so that he can then truly know _me_.

"I'll just spit it out," I say in a breath and he nods. "Luca and I had a _physical_ relationship… For a while, you know? And one weekend his parents were out of town for a conference. It was just him and his older brother, and Paolo didn't care what we got up to. So, I told my parents I was staying at my friend's house and Luca and I spent the weekend christening every room in the house. If you know what I mean?" I look up at Jake and I can see by the look on his face and by the flush on his cheeks that he indeed does know what I mean. "It was stupid and we were sixteen and we didn't use condoms a few times and about ten weeks after, I realized I was pregnant."

There. I've said it…

The first bit anyway.

There is the potential for some very uncomfortable silence now, but I don't let myself, or Jacob, dwell. I just slog on through. No more stalling. I'm committed to getting the whole story out.

"My parents were really good about it. So was Luca and his mom. His dad… not so much. His father is a banker, he's pretty high up in the Banca di Roma chain of command. And I guess he had higher hopes for his son than teenage fatherhood. Mr Fiorentino really tried to pressure me to get an abortion even though it's illegal in Italy. But I didn't want to and neither did Luca and my parents said they'd support me, whatever decision I made. And I decided to keep it. We both did. And that ended up in me being _asked_ to leave school."

"What?" Jake queries, the offence to my discrimination apparent in his tone.

"You have to understand the kind of school it is Jacob. It's a private, catholic, international school. A lot of very important people send their kids there. They're guided by church law; and sex before marriage is against cannon law. Everywhere has their rules, only some are stricter than others. Like, I gave up ballet too. You can't maintain a strict diet when you growing another human inside of you and you defiantly can't dance. Not even in the first months, well not at the Rome Center of Dance anyway," I say, forgetting to hide the bitterness about being kicked out of ballet school from my voice.

It's funny how with all this school crap, the dancing is what I get the most upset about? But it's the school stuff that's gunna effect the rest of my life so much further reaching. Both of our lives.

"So I left the school among a maelstrom of rumors and sideways glances. Luca has changed schools now too; To try and get a fresh start. I think he's happy there." Well at least he _says_ he is.

"So, I sat at home. Mom put her work on hold to be around and also to home school me. Luca and I went to ultra sound appointments and we started anti-natal classes. We stopped sleeping together and that part of our relationship ended. We became just friends, friends who were having a baby together at sixteen. He was great, he'd stay over a lot, he helped me through the motion sickness and everything, but as the physical relationship side of things sort of stopped and died off with all the stress, eventually so did the kissing too. And like I said, he'd stay over a fair bit, he used to love lying on my stomach and getting kicked in the face by the little guy. Luca would talk to him and teach him Italian while I translated in English. It was one of the things we'd do." I laugh a little at the memory of it, not staling, but _regrouping_ before continuing to the bloodied and raw 'meat' of the story.

No deep breath is going to make it any easier to say it, though. I just have to. I have to say it.

"He wasn't at our house though when, at two o'clock in the morning, I woke up with severe stomach cramps and a bed full of blood and broken waters. Four months too early. Mum and dad took me straight to the hospital and Luca and his mom met us there. I was twenty three weeks pregnant. That's like five months." I explain, most guys don't know about the weeks but they sort of get the month thing. Some times is just easier to detach and be all clinical about it.

I've actually had to tell anyone about this before. Mom or Dad or someone else always broke the ice for me. My stomach is churning as I teeter on the edge of the hardest bit of this story. I think I'm gunna vomit. I swallow hard. Holding in my breath and speak all on the exhale.

"They couldn't stop the contractions." I suck in another hardening breath, it's pointless, my voice wavering anyway and it sounds ready to break, just like my heart has. "And at 7:49am on February 24th Angelus Fiorentino-Cullen was born. He lived for one hour and six minutes. He took his last breath in my arms. My stupid long hair curling around us both."

It's quite in the parking lot of the supermarket, the occasional motor of a pasting car blending in to the wind and squawk of birds nesting nearby. We both sit for a moment, my eyes are closed and I can hear his slow soft breath dispersed with the sound of my rasping and my pulse thudding in my ears. All the sound, nothing more than while noise over shadowed by the memory of what that last sound sounded like. His last breath.

I'm deep within my own memories as I start to feel the hot salty water of my tears brim and bubble out from my lashes. Jacob still has a hold of my hand and his fingers feel rough and warm as they methodically sweep over my knuckles. Back and forth.

Then, before long, my tears start to flow freely. Rivulets down my cheeks, dripping on my neck line and collar. I refuse to have any shame in grieving over the loss of my son. Sadness... privacy... but never shame.

It's several minutes later before I can gather myself enough. I look up at Jake. His eyes are closed and he looks pained. Little worry lines are creasing his brow, a tight and stricken pull to his normally smiling, full lips.

One of my hands is being clutched by the superb man sitting next to me and the other is clutching the pendant around my neck. The one I never take off.

"Luca gave me this to remind me of what never was. Our baby. Angelus." I say leaning across to show him the engraved marking beneath the diamond adorned angel inscribed with his name.

Opening his eyes, Jacob leans in a little, taking the pendant in his fingers and looking closely.

"Ness," he whispers, staring at the pendant. I'm sure he's not yet willing to look directly at me after such a revelation. "I'm so very sorry. How do you move on from that? How do you keep smiling?" he looks up at me now, his eyes glisten with tears. It wasn't my intention to upset him. I just wanted to share something that was important to me.

I haven't even told Seth yet. The kids turning out to be a great friend, one I'm sure I'll have for life, but I'm not ready to tell him. Only Jacob. This feeling I have with Jake, it's more than I've ever experienced before. It's more than the physical attraction with Luca, more than the kindred friendship with Nahuel or Seth. It's just… _more_. I haven't a better word for it. I wanted him and _only_ him to know.

Forgetting my own feelings for a moment, my hand lifts up to trace the flow of tears that have escaped down his face. "Don't cry Jake. It's all done now. We had a small funeral. Luca and I have said our goodbyes. We still message on Facebook and I guess I'll Skype him soon. I've learnt to deal with it. Sort of." We break eye contact and I lean my head on to his shoulder, it's a shoulder I could lean on for ever. I feel bolstered and supported by his presence and for the first time in months I can talk about this to someone without it taking the normal _hours_ for me to regather myself.

"I'm ashamed to admit it," I say over his shoulder, looking out over the parking lot again, his braced hand finding the side od my waist, it's nice, "but a little part of me is relieved. I get to have this second chance now. Not that he wouldn't have been cherished and loved. But I would have had a very different life. I probably would have ended up living in Italy the rest of my life. A career and further relationships would have been so much harder. Let's face it, who would have wanted to get involved with at twenty two year old with a first grader around her ankles." I stay, steering us to slightly safer subject matter and a tried and trusted way for me to compose myself.

Jake gives me all I need to console myself with his understanding compassion. "No, I get that. It's understandable to have such mixed feeling about the whole thing. It's honest Ness, don't be ashamed by honesty," he says, as I pull back a little, his warm, strong hand reaching up and gently brushing over my cheek. It's kindhearted and tender and nothing sexual in the gesture at all.

"It hurts to think of him like that though," I say, my voice strained and lamented as I see through my minds eye. "Like a little six year old, running around, kicking a ball, learning his words." I don't mean to, but I suck in my runny nose, right by the side of Jake's ear. He doesn't seem to mind. "He had my hair, you know? It was still really short but it was obvious how red and curly he would have been. Luca has really dark brown and pretty much straight hair, so I know he was going to be blessed with this affliction of hair." I say pointing to the ringlet that's fallen across my eye. "That's a big part of why I wanted to cut it. It's a reminder of him all the time. Every time I think of him as I held him, my hair is in the image. Flowing over him, wrapping around him. Now it's a little less of a reminder. So thank you for helping me with that." I offer, trying to lighten the mood further. For myself... and for Jake.

"And…. That's who Angelus is. And that's why I moved here. The real reason," I end. I feel lighter from my confession, I hope with fervor that I haven't burdened this gentle heart beside me. And that this memoir won't completely fudge things up with the man or for my own sanity too for that matter.

I have chosen to learn some valuable lessons from all of this tragedy. One lesson being to live life to its fullest. Another is to love deeply and fully, and without reservation. And another _harder_ lesson for me to learn, is that things happen for a reason, even if it's not obvious at the time. And Jake is in my life for a reason.

I sit up straighter. Sucking in a cleansing breath and I catch a whiff of his delicious man smell. I feel it deep in my chest as I do. He makes me feel better about _everything_. I think this is my reason.

Even if he is still hung up on Bella. I know he's attracted to me. At least physically. He kissed me. It was short and sweet but entirely perfect. My lips are still tingling from the contact three days later. And then he ran.

But he's not shut me out entirely. He must care for me at lest _slightly_. Hopefully much more. He came and found me after I missed the school turn off. I'm going to take this as a good sign. I can be patient.

Letting his aura wash through me, I use his energy to lift me up. We run on the same wave length Jake and me. I can feel it. There is no resistance between us. My spirit knows his. This too is our reason for being in each others lives.

Weather it is from this life, or another, there is something about him and me. We are meant for greatness together.

But that is to contemplate another day.

Today… now, I have to get myself together for school. Don't want to be a crying mess on the first day. I want to do my best to look like a normal seventeen year old. Because I _am_. I just have a little more to be emo about than most.

Speaking of school, I check my watch. Oh shit. "It's like, eight thirty!" I screech as I jump off the bonnet. "I can't believe I'm going to be late for my first day at a new school. Oh fuck! Oh shit! My parents are going to kill me if they find out. Fuck!"

Getting up and then moving to his door, "Relax Ness," he says, "homeroom is always longer on the first day, don't stress."

We're driving now and thankfully the school is only a few blocks away.

"Easy for you to say," I wail, "I have to go complete my enrollment, I don't know what classes I'm in and I have no idea where the office even is!" I've been the new kid at school more times than I'd care to remember, it doesn't get any easier. In fact, it's been my experience that the older you get, the better the kids know each other and the harder it is to infiltrate the cliques.

"Chill amiga, I'll show you. I'll even take you to your homeroom if you want."

I wave of relief washes over me. I have more than one friend at this school. A few even. I'd let myself forget about that for a second. "Oh Jake, will you? Thank you. That would be so good. I was meant to meet Seth out the front but I'd say he's already gone in."

I see him take a deep breath, and he seems to give himself a slight nod, affirming to himself something that I am not privy to.

"Nah Ness, that's one thing you'll realize about me," he declares. "I'm nothing if I'm not loyal. I follow through on my commitments. I don't break promises. And I don't leave _freshmen_ all alone on their first day of school."

"But I'm not a freshman," I say knowing full well he's trying to provoke me.

I'd say he just wants to thoroughly change the subject, I get it, it's a heavy subject I just off-loaded. One that leaves people without the right words.

I didn't need his words; his shoulder was all I needed and he offered it, freely. And now his actions are just what I need too. His teasing is allowing me to stash my emotions surrounding Angelus back into the little pendant around my neck. It works and I'm grateful to him for knowing just what I need.

He's my protector. Our spirits are old friends.

"You're really a senior?" he asks with mock doubt pulling into one of the last car spaces in the school parking lot.

"Yes! I just turned seventeen last month! Is it really so hard to believe? I don't act like a twelve year old do I?"

"No," he says over the top of the car as we both get out.

"And is that the _story_ of a twelve year old?" I smile, the little pull on my heart from the reference eased with his answering smile.

"Well no, that's more like the story of a thirty year old. So I guess if you average 12 and 30 you get 17."

"No you don't," I counter, "you get 21."

"Yeah well, I've gotta take a few years off for the height. Or lack of. It just can't be overlooked." He laughs as he takes my skate board off me and carries it. It's a sweet gesture. And he's sweet and so are his lips. And I want to just devour them right here on the front steps of the school. He's looking at me like he wants to do the same. But once again, he pulls away, gesturing with his hand the way to the office.

I sigh, maybe it's best if I wait a little before jumping into a relationship. Ground myself here a little first. Give the guy some time to get over his selfish ex and my egotistical cousin. God knows I've had over six months to grieve and almost a year of celibacy. I can wait a few more weeks. I hope it's not months.

"Ok. Seventeen it is," I agree, following him up the steps and mentally doing my best to friend zone him. It's going to be very hard to do though. He's just so beautiful, inside and out. And the beauty of his outside has me by the ovaries right now. The muscles in his back ripples underneath his thin cotton shirt as his arms swing. The shirt's cream colored and it contrasts superbly with the tanned brown of his summer skin. I _really_ hope this friend zone doesn't have to last _too_ long.

"You do realize that one, Seth Harold Clearwater is _not_ seventeen?" he asks over his shoulder. His really muscly and broad shoulder.

Of course I know how old Sethy is. It's one of the first things we talked about that night at the party when he and Quil were waiting for a very drunk Jake to finish talking to Bella. Seth is very mature for a fifteen year old. His still so confused, but with some good friends like Jake and the love of his family he'll figure stuff out. In the meantime, I just like hanging out with the kid.

"Yeah. I know that. I also happen to know that you _are_. The legal age is sixteen in Washington, isn't it?" He is holding the door open for me and I can see his pupils dilate as I step past him and walk ahead. _ Yeah. It's sixteen alright. _I know you think I'm pretty Jacob Black. I think you are too. But it's okay that you won't do anything about it. I'll wait for you to be ready.

He catches up in a pace or two, keeping step behind my shoulder. I can sense him leaning over, his proximity sending a shiver over my entirety. He smells so good, he has no idea the effect he has on me. It's making this friend zone thing challenging.

"So…" he asks, his breath is warm on my neck as he speaks. "you taking Biology?"

"Yes," I answer, twirling my hair back up into a bun and watching him over my shoulder our faces only inches apart.

"Good, 'cause I need a new lab partner."


	17. Chapter 17 - More than a Crush

**Hey all. So gald so many of you liked the last chapter. Thanks so much for the reviews.**

**Thanks you Aretee for being my Beta and helping me navigate my way around an American High school.**

* * *

_**Last time on P & C's**__** ( Nessie's POV)… "at 7:49am on February 24th Angelus Fiorentino-Cullen was born. He lived for one hour and six minutes. He took his last breath in my arms." he looks up at me now, his eyes glisten with tears. It wasn't my intention to upset him. I just wanted to share something that was important to me.**_ _**This feeling I have with Jake, it's more than I've ever experienced before. It's more than the physical attraction with Luca, more than the kindred friendship with Nahuel or Seth. It's just… more. I haven't a better word for it….**_

_**Following him up the steps I mentally do my best to friend zone him. It's going to be very hard to do though. He's just so beautiful, inside and out. And the beauty of his outside has me by the ovaries right now. The muscles in his back ripples underneath his thin cotton shirt as his arms swing. The shirt's cream coloured and it contrasts superbly with the tanned brown of his summer skin. I really hope this friend zone doesn't have to last too long."**_

**Chapter 17 - More than a crush.**

After a morning of haircuts and confessions before even the first bell sounds, Ness and I end up just catching the tail end of home room. Yes we're in the same home room and she is not a sophomore, I repeat, _not_ a sophomore. The little pocket rocket is in fact a senior. I'm such a douche for not asking her earlier. Turns out, we're in, like, four different AP classes together. This year is finally starting to look up. But I gotta keep reminding myself that she's Seth's. Doesn't mean I can't look though.

I find her at lunch, in the line. She comes to sit with me and some of the other seniors, mostly guys from the football team. They're ogling like assholes, I don't appreciate it. And by the looks she's giving them, neither does she. Then Seth comes over, lunch tray in hand, saying hi.

"Hi" he says.

"Hi," she says back. "You want to sit?"

Seth doesn't. He's a sophomore. He doesn't sit with the Varsity football team. It's not _my_ fault. It's basic High School Interactions 101. As much as I love the guy like a brother outside of school, here… here in the cafeteria, he's just a sophomore I sort of know. Yes, I know it's horrible and two faced… oh, shut up.

He doesn't tell her this outright, but when he says, "Oh…um… no… I sit over there," pointing to an empty table two rows across, she gets the picture.

"Well I'll come sit with you then," she says picking up her tray and leaving me sit with Tyler and Jarred. Great.

This is how it goes.

Two days pass.

I haven't talked to her about what she's told me about her dead angel baby. How she can walk around without bursting into tears every two seconds is beyond me.

I have a sneaking suspicion that she hasn't told Seth about the _real_ reason she's moved here. I'm such a jealous fucker that this notion makes me happy.

It's all I have of her to hold on to. I'm the one she's told this to. The one she's chosen to trust. I'm her friend. But just her friend. And apparently I'm not high enough up on the friendship ladder to sit with at lunch either.

She sits with Seth. Their seats are pushed right together as he shows her funny things on his phone.

We talk before class, and in between. But at lunch, when she gets to choose…

She sits with Seth.

We have a Bio lab before lunch today. Ness accepted my offer to be her lab partner. We work well together. Just friends.

We're dissecting the reproductive organs of a flower in class. We get to sit up next to each other, on those high stools we have in lab. Our heads are pressed closed together, but not touching. We hover over the cutting board as she slices longways down the poor iris flower's penis. Yes— I know it's not _actually_ a penis, but the stamen's basic function is the same. And cutting it open is a little uncomfortable to watch. I make some lame joke about it having such a long schlong and she laughs. In fact, she blushes. She's beautiful. But she's Seth's.

I want to know whose schlong she's thinking about as her cheeks redden. Is it Seth's? Not sure if she would have seen his schlong yet. They don't seem to be all over each other the way most couples who are fucking normally are.

I hope it's mine. I doubt it though.

Maybe she's thinking about her Italian ex. I know for a fact that she's seen _his_ schlong.

Need to see the schlong in order to make the baby.

I'm being insensitive.

Her story about her baby was fucking sad. It made me sad for her and the whole fucked up situation. I don't really know how to deal with it though. I thought I was a mature kind of guy. But this is _way_ too adult for me. There aren't any words I can say to make her feel better and there isn't anything I can do. So, so far… still… I've said nothing and I've done nothing about her sad story.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do anyhow? I don't think I actually supposed to _do_ anything. I think I'm just supposed to _know_. To be _that_ person. The one who knows. So that at least one person does. It must be hard to keep that kind of shit bottled up alone. I guess at least, if I ever see her having a bad day, I might know the reason.

I like being her confidant. Me. Even if I have to do it without getting to hold her the way I'd like to.

Which is naked BTW.

But she's Seth's. And that kiss we shared at Paul's party was a delicious mistake that keeps haunting my dreams. That kiss was a mistake and nothing happened.

We're just friends. She's Seth's.

When the bell goes, I tell her to take off. "I'll finish cleaning up."

"Are you sure?" she asks, not stopping her tidying.

I take the tweezers and blade from her hand. "Yeah, you go find Seth." Our fingers brush and my hand is alight from the contact. She's rubbing that little spot on her knuckles where our skin just touched. She felt it too.

"Oh. Ok. I'll see you in Spanish?" she shrugs, hefting her backpack over her shoulder and tossing her long braid over the other.

"Os guardaré un asiento" I say back, telling her I'll save her a seat next to me. I always do.

"Well done!" her smile is genuine and warm and I just want to kiss her. "You don't need my help Jake."

I don't. Especially _now, now _that I have the right motivation. Her. "You're just a good teacher," I smile.

She shrugs, scoffing, playfully making a kind of dismissive self-effacing sound. I see a hint of a blush as she turns and head out the door leaving me breathing in her warm spice smell and standing with a wax tray strewn with the dismembered parts of the flowers reproductive anatomy.

It doesn't take me long to clean up and today at lunch, I finally get a chance to hang out with Embry for more than a millisecond. He's been busy with his Video Game Club the last few days. We meet up in the lunch line and sit down together before anyone else is at our table.

I do the customary shoulder check to the corner table. Yep. Ness is siting with Seth. In fact I think half the sophomore male population is buzzing around her and a good portion of the girls. She's turning out to be quite the social butterfly with the sophomores, the juniors _and_ the seniors. Our eyes meet for the briefest of movements, she looks frustrated by all male the attention though. She's still the new shiny toy. She gives me exaggerated 'help me' eyes. Her lips pouting in to a defenseless drop. She's not defenseless. She's the strongest person I've ever met. The most open hearted, unguarded, sincere people I've met. She's my friend and I think I'm hers.

These are the games we play. Entire conversations by looks only. Across the cafeteria. Across the class room. Across the field as she watches Seth practice in my spot_. Fucking hand_.

I am her confidant, her friend.

I smile back at her and give her a 'you choose to sit there and wear that billowy dress, showing off those amazing legs' look. Oh shit. Those legs. She's Seth's. Seth. Seth. Seth. What does she want me to do? I can't go over and _save _her. What would I be saving her from? Her _boyfriend_ and _his_ friends? Yeah. I can't do anything about the buzzing sophomores.

I'm brought back to the table I'm _actually_ sitting at, by the soft, slightly disapproving tone of my oldest friend.

"Not sure about this short hair Jake," he says. His eyebrows flick to the hewn lengths that I've kind of spiked up with gel today.

I've been waiting for it. Embry hasn't said a thing about my crop the few times I have had a chance to speak to him the last two days at school. Everyone else went ape-shit. Including my dad. But not Embry. He's said nothing. I think I should have told him or texted him or something _before_ I rocked up like this to school.

His mom always kept his hair short when we were kids. And in the seventh grade he decided he wanted to grow his long too. I guess to be like me. I don't know. But it's just getting over his shoulders now and he's all into the heritage of keeping it long for spiritual strength, like he's some kind of tribal spiritual warrior. I think he feels I went AWOL on him.

"Yeah, well… I'm not too sure about it either. Kind of regret it. But it's done, so… yeah," I shrug, trying to down play the fact that I may have cried in my pillow again Monday night. Also forcing myself to not turn around again and get another glimpse of those legs.

"So, Bella's getting married," he says without preamble. Embry is never one for beating about the bush.

"How did you find out about that?" I ask. My head whipping up from the mac 'n' cheese I'm pushing around my plate.

"Seth," he says. My immediate reaction is to look over to him. To them. Did she tell him? Because that's fucked up if she did. That was _not_ her secret to tell.

"I think Charlie was talking to Sue and I guess Sue told Seth," he reasons. "How did _you_ find out?" he asks. Not much gets past Emb, it must be obvious that I already knew and I thought it was secret.

"Bella told me."

"She called you?" he asks, surprised. He knows Bella has only contacted me that one time, to text me she was in Pullman. Which turns out, was only for that _one_ night.

I give my head a pitiful little shake. "I called her Sunday night, _before_ I cut my hair," I add dryly. "And she told me to keep it a secret and I told her she had to tell Charlie."

"Tell Charlie what?" Paul asks, butting in and dropping his tray on the table loudly as he sits.

"Bella Swan is getting married," Embry says.

Shut the fuck up Emb! Don't tell Lahote. He already gives me enough shit over my hand. Don't give him any more ammo. I convey all this with my eyes. I see the 'sorry' conveyed back. Too late, I think, the asshole already knows.

"Your Bella?" he asks, that fucking trademark smirk of his forming.

She's not _my_ Bella any more.

"She's getting married?" he asks me as if I'm going to elaborate. I'm not.

"Who to? Cullen?" he continues, a little too loudly. The magnitude of the scandal somehow makes him increase the volume button. At the sound of her surname being almost shouted across the cafeteria I see Ness turn towards our table. As a matter of fact, I think the majority of the school is.

"Shut up Paul." I say very quietly through gritted teeth, my eyes blazing death rays at him.

"What's the matter Black? You got your rag on? You've been a fucking emo pussy the last few weeks. Is this why? Thought it was just your jerking-off injury. But I guess you've been de-nutted too," he sniggers. "Has she been two timing you this whole time or did she just drop your ass the minute he came home?"

I don't answer him and he doesn't wait for one. He's just _Paul_—talking without thinking, again. Saying the first thing that he thinks, regardless of the people or friends who happen to be in the way of him.

"Fucking Cullen," he says under his breath, laughing to himself. Then he gets half up on his seat, yelling over to one of the other guys on the Varsity offensive team, Jared. "Hey Cameron!" he calls. "Did you hear Bella Swan is getting married? To Cullen. Not the big one who got drafted, the skinny one!" he laughs the last few words.

I like Paul. Honestly I do. I'm QB, he's my running back. We have to get along. But the fucker has no filter. No sense of propriety. It can be a shit load of fun. So long as the fun's not direct at you. And today it is. And it's not fun. And I don't think he could have done it in a more public forum. He's pressed one too many of my buttons. I don't like being quite so publicity humiliated. This whole thing is humiliating enough without him rubbing it in my face.

"Fucking shut it Paul! For fuck's sake?" I say standing up loudly, my chair scrapes back and the table grates forwards as I rise aggressively. Lahote loses a little balance from his monkey position where he's leaning on the table and lands on the floor, his ass in the air, his knees still on the chair. Good. Fucker doesn't know when to stop.

"Be fucking happy my hand is broke Lahote or I would have punched your lights out by now." I say before staking off, kicking a chair on my way out the room. If we have an audience of 400 kids, then I may as well put on a good show.

My eyes meet Nessie's as I charge out. If I ever needed my friend, I need her now. But instead of communicating this with my eyes. I give her a look of contempt, as if it's her fault she has the same last name as the fucker. It's not, and we both know it. I'm just being a touchy emo bitch who doesn't like being publicly ridiculed by his peers. Intentionally or not. She looks like she wants to run after me. I see her lift off her chair, stopping and turning to Seth as he places a soft preventive hand on her arm. I look away as I exit, but not before I see a moment of indecision from her, her shoulders slumping as she sits back down. Next to Seth.

I told her that kiss on Friday was a mistake and to just pretend it didn't happen. She's doing just that. I only have myself to blame if she doesn't come to encourage and boost me like she's done every other single time I've seen her.

I realize as I leave the cafeteria and my temper starts to quickly simmer down, that it is _unacceptable_ for me to _not_ be Renesmee's friend. I wish she'd followed me out of the room. I need someone to talk to about all this shit. She make everything easier to handle. She makes me a better person. The more I think about it, the more ensconced in my life she's becoming. Of how much better she makes my day. Like, right now, if she had been sitting with me and not Seth; if she'd been by my side, I think would have been okay with Paul's shit. She makes things okay for me. If she was sitting next to _me_ and not Seth, then maybe I wouldn't have made a giant ass of myself just now. Instead I'm skulking down the corridors of building two alone.

I'm trying so hard to not care about Bella anymore, and Ness makes it so much easier for me, even if she can only be my friend. But I want to be more than her friend. I want to so, so, so much more than her friend. _Do_ so, so, so much _more _than 'just friends' do together_._ But I can't; because she's Seth's. She sat with him.

So, being the pining touchy emo bitch I am, I storm out of the school and into my car.

And I ditch the rest of the afternoon.

So much for my aim of perfect attendance.

And that kiss _definitely_ happened.

* * *

.o*O*o.

* * *

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since we cut each other's hair. Twelve days since we had our first Biology lab. Eleven days since we dissected the sexual reproductive organs of a flower. Ten excruciating days since I realized I had a more than just a massive crush on her.

Like… I can't get this girl out of my head. I close my eyes and she's there, smiling at me in my dreams. I breathe and I can smell her woodsy, raw, nutty smell. It's exotic and mysterious. And I want to drown myself in it… in her.

But the best I can do right now is friendship. But what a fulfilling and organic friendship it's turning in to. Ness just gets me. And I get her. We get each other without any real effort.

She says we must be kindred spirits. I tend to agree. But I'm also _so_ fucking grateful that she's not _actually_ my kin. I guy should never have the kind of thoughts that I have for Ness if she was family. Which she's not. I know this because of the shirt she has on today. It's a button up; and the second top button came undone sometime between first and third period. I noticed in Spanish, but I never said anything. I just stole a few very pleasing peeks. I can vouch for the paleness of her skin. No Quileute in her what-so-ever, definitely not kin. And her boobs are huge.

But were nothing more than friends right now. The morning after I stormed out of lunch, all it took was a quick 'Hi' form her and an inquiry into how I was and whoosh… we were easy friends still.

The kind of easy friend who is tortuously designated to the sidelines, watching from afar, Biology partner, sits behind me in AP stats and I give her my answers and then she returns the favor to help me in AP Spanish, I know her deepest darkest, most heartbreaking of secret kind of… Friendship.

We've both been continuing to act as if that that kiss never happened, it was a mistake and it… never... happened.

We can't be more than friends.

Cause she's Seth's.

But it did happen.

When I say we have an _organic_ friendship, I mean; natural, pure, and completely unforced. We talk a fair bit, Nessie and me.

Actually, we talk _a lot._

We talk most mornings before school.

_Always_ before class.

Some times _afer _school.

Occasionally on the weekends. (and that's even on the rise too.)

We talk most mornings before school because, after that first day I saw her skating to school, it's become a habit of mine to find her, pull over on the side of the road and give her a lift the rest of the way. I tried to get her to let me pick her up. But she won't hear of it. So most mornings I see her lone figure skating along the road. I pull over and she gets in. And we talk. And in the confines of my car I can smell her warm spicy tang for the rest of the day. She gets in my head; swimming around until she's all I can think about.

I've picked her up once after her ballet classes at the community hall where she teaches Saturday mornings. I had to come into town to get something for dad and she just happened to be needing a lift to Seth's place. I was a little early so I went into the hall. And I watched this beautiful elfin princess showing all these little seven year old princesses how stand in third position. We talked the entire half hour journey back to La Push. My car smelt like a rich, earthy, honey like goddess for the rest of the weekend.

Another time I went with her and Seth to have a look at some second hand cars. They were all duds. I won't let her get anything substandard. We talked, but Seth was there and she talked to him too. But they don't talk as good as me and her do. And that time, all I could smell was Seth's Axe body spray.

We have so many classes' together. It's fantastic. If we don't sit together then we're only a desk or two apart. And we talk. And I smell her.

I have football practice after school most days. Sometimes I see her by her locker before she goes home. When I do, we talk, I smell her and I'm late to practice.

We talk. And I secretly smell. It's what we do.

We talk about pretty much anything and everything. Nothing false or put- on. And when I say everything, I mean _everything_. Well… everything except for three things.

We never talk about Seth and we don't talk about Bella. And that kiss at Pauls party? That still never happened. But it did happen. I can't stop thinking about it. But we don't talk about it. But everything else… everything else is fair game.

I know her favorite color is red. The color of cherries. She lost her virginity to her friend Nahuel at the age of 14. Yes, her gay friend and yes 14. Apparently they do things differently in Europe. Apparently he was still undecided on his persuasion and wanted to know before he went off to college. Ness wanted to get the V card out of the way. So they just did it. It was a dud apparently. The deed was accomplished, but he decided that yes, he was gay and Ness was sure she didn't have any romantic feeling for her bestie.

She talks to her ex, Luca every few days, or at least a Facebook message. I guess after you have a baby together… and it dies, that person stays a big part of your life. She says he has a girlfriend now. Ness says she's okay with that. I believe her. She says they are just friends. They were in never in love to begin with. It was only Angelus that kept them together.

She talks about him a little bit. I guess I'm the only person she _can_ talk to about him. She showed me his ultra should picture. A well-worn, dog-eared piece of gloss paper. A black and white silhouette of a little noes and a hand, and some toes. She says she has some real pictures of him, after he was born, dressed in clothes… before he died.

She hasn't showed me them yet.

I've been to her house once. Yesterday. I didn't go to practice because I had a doctor's appointment about my hand after school. So she agreed to let me drop her home. I did. Her aunty Esme made us an afternoon snack. Ice tea and sandwiches. They weren't fucking bologna either. Oh, and a hand full of cherries. Her favourite food is cherries. She smells like cherries up close too.

I like what she's done with her bedroom. It's an eclectic culmination of her mismatched life. And, my god, does it smell like her. She has little Baltic dolls on her book shelf. A ballet poster behind the door. A small stereo system sits on the shelf below the flat screen TV. But the main thing in her room;. Is books. A part from a small space for the nick-knacks. Her four level bookshelf is full. And not of the small, soft covers of novels. It's full of reference materials. Texts and workbooks, hard bound and full of the knowledge that make you fluent in four languages and excelling in AP chemistry. She has a study desk now too. It's neat and ordered. And full of more text books and note pads, articles printed out on some interesting medical thing. When I ask her about it, she just shrugs and says she finds it fascinating. She just likes learning. She's gunna make a good doctor one day.

Her mother is a hot shot lawyer, defending the hard done by's of the world and prosecuting the wicked antagonists for a global humanitarian organisation. Her father's the same. Only, he's a doctor. Treating the sick and injured pro-bono in war-torn countries. I was a little wrong about the rich charmed life. They may have some money, but she's seen some shit.

It hasn't taken long for Renesmee to take over the role that Bella used to have. My friend. A girl, who is my friend. It's important to make the distinction. Cause as much as I talk to Emb and sometimes Quill, it's not the same as talking to a chick. You can tell them stuff without the fear of being called a pussy every two minutes.

The give and take Ness and I seem to have going is so natural. If fact, I'd suffice to say that our friendship is more even and fluid that what I had with Bella. It's like Ness and I have been friends for all of our lives. It's that easy to be with her. There is nothing forced or awkward about it. At the risk of sounding like a pussy, I'd even go as far to as to say that we complement each other. She balances me out. She is that little angel on my shoulder, talking me off the ledge of my own tendency to catastrophize. Or encouraging me to seek out my dreams and not to sell myself short. Or she's that little voice on my shoulder that tells me out right, that I'm a fucking idiot.

Which she did last night…

We were talking on the phone. I was just lying on my bed, tearing into the baloney sandwich I'd just made when I told her what the doctor had said after my x-ray.

I'm still gunna play tomorrow. I'm telling coach I'm cleared.

I'm not.

Doc wants me to give it another two weeks before I play, let alone play without the brace. I'm going to neglect to tell coach this.

She called me a fucking idiot. Maybe I am.

I've fallen in love with an unavailable girl after all.

I must be an idiot.

* * *

**Well, Jake is smitten ladies and gentleman. Now we play the waiting game. How long do you all think it'll take before someone clicks?**

**Hope you enjoyed :-D**

**M**


	18. Chapter 18 -Starting Line

_**Last Time on P & C's… **_

_**The give and take Ness and I seem to have is so natural. In fact, I'd suffice to say that our friendship is more even and fluid that what I had with Bella. It's like Ness and I have been friends for all of our lives. It's that easy to be with her. There is nothing forced or awkward about it. At the risk of sounding like a pussy, I'd even go as far to as to say that we complement each other. She balances me out. She is that little angel on my shoulder, talking me off the ledge of my own tendency to catastrophize. Or encouraging me to seek out my dreams and not to sell myself short. Or she's that little voice on my shoulder that tells me out right, that I'm a fucking idiot. **_

_**Which she did last night… **_

_**We were talking on the phone. I was just lying on my bed, tearing into the baloney sandwich I'd just made when I told her what the doctor had said after my x-ray. **_

_**I'm still gunna play tomorrow. I'm telling coach I'm cleared. **_

_**I'm not. **_

_**Doc wants me to give it another two weeks before I play, let alone play without the brace. I'm going to neglect to tell coach this.**_

_**She called me a fucking idiot. **_

_**Maybe I am. **_

_**I've fallen in love with an unavailable girl after all.**_

* * *

**Chapter 18 – Starting line.**

It's Friday night. The first game of the season. I'm starting. I'm going to take off my brace to play.

I know I shouldn't, but the only other option is letting Seth start. I love the guy, I do. But he's got the girl, he's not getting my starting QB spot.

So I bend the truth.

And I'm starting.

We have a pep rally on tonight. I never got around to talking to coach about _not_ being captain, so…I'm captain. It's not like I have a social life to take up my time. So I may as well wear the 'C' badge too.

I'm here, and I'm getting into it with all the crowd. The cheerleaders have made us learn this dance with them. About half way through one of their traditional sets the music comes to a screeching halt and the Black Eyed Peas come on loud over the speaker system. And out we come. The Varsity team. We pair up with a cheerleader and we do the dance we've practiced. It's pretty good. Better than what we did the first rally of the season last year. We spin the girls around our backs and there is a little bit of suggestiveness. My cheerleader, Lizzy is all kinds of all right. But she's too tanned, her eyes are blue and her strawberry blond hair is the wrong colour. She's not Ness.

Tyler and Paul do a couple of summersaults across the gym and the school goes crazy for it. The girls bring themselves into a pyramid and Lizzy is at the top. She's doing an arabesque and I'm reminded of that night in Seth's family room. Of the photos on my phone that I still look at—nightly.

I know Ness is somewhere in the crowd. She told me she's coming. So when half the offensive team circle around me and lift me up like we'd practiced, I'm thinking of her and I'm tempted to do an arabesque while I'm up there. But we didn't practice that and I don't want to break anything else, so I stay just standing on both feet, fist pumping the air, sans brace. Just being up here, above the heads of my team, the cheerleaders doing their thing, me living up to all that's expected of QB1 captain, the crowd goes ballistic. It's pretty fucking awesome. And I forget about everything for a while. I get into the school spirit and I get my head into this game we're about to play. The guys lower me back to the ground and the music stops, the dancing is over.

Coach comes out with the microphone and it's time to hand out the letters and introduce the Varsity team. A couple of last year's sophomores get their big 'F' patch, as expected. And so does one of this year's sophomore—Seth. I should have known this was coming. He's good. Coach thinks he might have to fill in for me if my hand doesn't hold up, so he's been training with us. He fucking deserves it. But if I have anything to do with it, I'll be still playing, even if my hand is bent back at an unnatural angle. I'm happy for him. I am. I just don't want him to take my spot. Totally pretending my hand doesn't hurt, I smile and shake his hand as he walks past me. I really am proud of my little brother from another mother.

Eventually it's my turn. I'm last up. I get my captain pin. Coach fastens it to my letterman jacket I'm already wearing. I got my big "F" sophomore year too. It's pretty cool. I'm kind of glad I never got to talk to coach about ditching the captaincy now. I like the bling. And my jersey's got the captain's C on it too.

Coach gives the crowd a little more pepping and we all join in clapping while the drill team do the last number and then we head out. Over to the locker rooms to get ready for the whole reason we're here. To play football.

* * *

We're about eleven minutes into the first quarter, just trying to hold out before the buzzer, when it all goes down. My rushing touchdown, that is. And the re-breaking of my hand. And the good mood I was in.

I read the play wrong. Totally. And Lahote is sacked before I have a chance to look for him. But to the left of him—and the three guys piled on top of him—the defensive line has left the far part of the end zone wide open. So I rush those eight feet. It's freaking amazing. I take an air born dive over the scrummage and land into a roll… over the line. And onto my unbraced hand. _Fuck me— it fucking hurts._

I'm surrounded by the guys in seconds. It's great. It's an epic touchdown right on the buzzer. I'm a hero. Yada yada yada.

Ness was right. I'm a fucking idiot. And now my hand is fucked.

I'm forcing a smile as we walk over for a huddle on the sideline, but Embry, who's still coming off the field, sees the grimace behind it. He fucking throws me right into the shit by asking how my hand feels in front of Coach.

"It's ok," I say tucking it behind my back.

"Black. Show me your hand," Coach orders.

Reluctantly, I hold it out for him to see. The swelling is already apparent. And when he touches it, I can't hold back the flinch. Fuck!

"Clearwater!" he screams. "You're on!" he yells at Seth over his shoulder. Seth is standing by the fence, leaning over the railing talking to Ness. He stands to attention instantly, clipping his helmet on and jogging over.

"Black, you're done for the night. Good rush. Go get some ice onto that."

"Yes coach," I mumble. Flicking the straps off my helmet and letting it hang heavily off my good arm.

I sit down on one of the far benches for a minute to watch the PAT. We're up seven points now.

I don't talk to anyone in the break, I'm not feeling the team spirit anymore. I fucked my hand… again, I've basically handed Seth my spot and to top it off, he's still got the girl. I saw her briefly before the game, she looks beautiful tonight. She has this flowing skirt on just above the knee. A tank top that is scooping dangerously low over her chest is tucked in to a wide belt that makes her waist look tiny and her tits look huge. Oh… and those legs... She's doesn't wear skirts nearly enough if you ask me. She's in school colours. But there is nothing adolescent about that outfit. The fabric pulls into her little waist and stretches over her boobs in all the right ways. Just that hint of cleavage and titanic swell of breast was lifting above the material. Oh man she's beautiful.

Just thinking about her makes me hard. It's not a healthy obsession I have going on. And I can _never_ forget that she's Seth's. I have to constantly curb my desires and affections. We're nothing more than friends. Best of friends who, in a few short weeks seem to know each other inside-out and back-to-front. I'm pretty sure she knows everything about me… except my true feelings for her.

I'm just about at the end of my tether, I can't fight the feelings any more. And I don't really care if it's unhealthy. So long as I keep it under wraps, and my hands to myself, I'm going to let myself dream as much as I like. As I sit here now, looking out over the field, staring over the grass, I see nothing but Ness in my mind's eye. What it would be life is she _wasn't_ Seth's. What it would be like if she was mine.

* * *

I hear the gate open and close behind me. I can feel her energy soothing over my back as she approaches. "Here," she says coming to sit next to me. My friend. We normally sit a healthy foot apart. But not tonight, tonight she sits with our outer thighs touching and I reflexively shift my leg and press further into her, our calves brushing together now too. I can't help but steal the contact while I can. Unhealthy, but I don't care. I inhale deep and long and fill my lungs with that warmth that gives me hope. She shouldn't be inside the fence line, but all eyes are on the field. No one cares that one chick is sitting field side next to the inured QB. She takes my hand and lays a bag of ice gently on my knuckles, placing my hand on her leg. The bag is cold and the weight is uncomfortable but my fingers brush against the soft skin of her thigh and that well and truly overrides the sting. I know it's exactly what I need. She's doing it again. Looking after me.

It's so hard being _just_ her friend.

I'm silent as we watch the game go on. She leans over, twisted in her seat as she wraps an arm around me. "Hey. Are you ok?" she asks, pushing back a stray wisp of my hair. My eyes close and I allow myself the contentment of simply enjoying her hands on me. It's a pleasure I know I'll regret allowing myself, in about five minutes. But right now. I need something nice.

I nod my ok-ness, keeping my eyes closed. My hand is throbbing. I hope I haven't just taken myself out for the entire season. Yet all I can think about is how much I want to wrap my arms around the woman next to me. But I can't.

Because she's Seth's.

"Does it feel broken?" she asks quietly, her eyes searching over my face as I look out to the game.

I shrug. "I don't know. It hurts. Maybe. I hope not." I feel defeated. So much of this year is fucked up. Even what should be the play of the season will probably end up being the play that fucks up my season.

I'm looking out to the 40 yard line as the whistle blows and the offensive team takes the field for the second quarter. As _Seth_ takes the field...in my place. He's got the girl _and_ my spot.

Great. Just. Fucking. Great.

"It was a good dive. It looked really impressive," she says lightly, trying to boost me and draw me out of this funk I'm in.

My friend.

I laugh an idle chuckle through my nose. She always gives me what I need.

Ness leans in to me a little more, her little arm stretching to tuck my padded shoulder under hers. She smells like spice and apricots tonight. I breathe deeply again and fill myself with her scent again, this time getting a really good dose of her. Her other hand, the one that isn't around my shoulder reaches up and her fingertips trace back and forwards along my jaw. The sensation sends a shiver over me, my eyes close so I can really focus on the feeling of her fingers on me. My skin tingles across my face and over my shoulders, it ripples down my back and through my gut. Straight to the little guy that does all the thinking.

"You looked impressive Jake. You _are_ impressive." Her fingertips have moved up to my lips and she's ever so lightly tracing over them. I lean into her and rest my forehead against hers.

"Ness," I whisper. A warning in my tone. She's Seth's. As much as I desperately want this. We can't.

"Why Jake?" she asks sounding frustrated and hurt as she pulls back for me, "She's gone. She's left. She's not coming back. You have to move on."

"What are you talking about?" I ask sitting up straight and her arms drop to her lap.

"Bella. She's gone. And I'm _here," _she says with heat, pointing to herself.

"What?" I ask. I'm totally distracted by her ramblings about Bella. Why does she think I'm still hung up on Bella? "I think more to the point… is Seth. What about _Seth_?" I ask her, my eyes tunnelling into hers.

"What?" she asks sounding just a confused as I am.

"Seth."

"Why would you care about Seth?"

"Are you kidding me?" I stand up now, moving over to the gate and closer to the locker rooms.

She follows me, tripping a bit as she moves over the bench in her hast. "Jake!" she calls out, jogging up as I storm away. "Jake!"

"I'm not doing this to him Ness. I'm not." I spit over my shoulder.

"Do what? What are you taking about?"

She's followed me into the building and I stop and turn around before entering the boys. "Quit it Ness. He's like my brother. I'm not doing this." I turn and open the door. I can hear her moving behind me. "Don't follow me Ness. Go back to your boyfriend."

* * *

**OOOH, a cliff for you all. Sorry (Not really) **

**My Beta, **_**Aretee**_** did a great job for me on this chapter. We don't do pep-rallies in Australia so the concept was a little foreign for me, as too anything to do with American football. So thanks L. Incidentally, she has a great new story right now called 'Be like That'. If you're after a good read, check it out. (blatant plug)**

**I know this was just a short chapter, but if you're good, I'll do my best to update twice next week... But only if you're good.**

**Thanks so much for all the great reviews last week. Sorry if I didn't get back to you all (know that I replied inside my head at least.) I can't believe this little ditty is almost at 200 reviews. How cool is that?!**

**Thanks guys, hope you keep on enjoying and that you're starting to get a little of the angst relief.**

**Ciao amigos. Marina**


	19. Chapter19 Broken Hands and Mended Hearts

_**Last Time on P & C's...**_

"_**I think more to the point… is Seth. What about Seth?" I ask her, my eyes tunneling into hers.**_

_**"What?" she asks sounding just a confused as I am.**_

_**"Seth."**_

_**"Why would you care about Seth?"**_

_**"Are you kidding me?" I stand up now, moving over to the gate and closer to the locker rooms.**_

_**She follows me, tripping a bit as she moves over the bench in her hast. "Jake!" she calls out, jogging up as I storm away. "Jake!"**_

_**"I'm not doing this to him Ness. I'm not." I spit over my shoulder.**_

_**"Do what? What are you taking about?"**_

_**She's followed me into the building and I stop and turn around before entering the boys. "Quit it Ness. He's like my brother. I'm not doing this." I turn and open the door. I can hear her moving behind me. "Don't follow me Ness. Go back to your boyfriend."**_

* * *

**Thank me later folks... (as in the review box at the end of the chapter.)**_**  
**_

** Aretee... I'll thank you now.**

* * *

**Chapter 19 – Broken Hands and Mended Hearts**

Well, that was my first fight with Ness. Quite dramatic by all accounts.

Fuck.

I can't believe she could just dismiss whatever it is that she and Seth have, and so easily. If I'm being brutally honest with myself it's flattering. Her liking me more than him. But my ethical thinking brain won't let the base impulses overcome the moral compass. Can't she see how much of a betrayal us doing something or _anything_ together would be to him?

She's making it really hard to stay in this friend zone.

I stomp into the locker room, struggling to get my shoulder pads off. My hand is really throbbing now, but I manage to get the buckles undone and strip off. I'm supposed to just change, get some ice for my hand and go back out. But this near kiss from Ness has thrown me. There is nothing else I want more right now that to kiss that girl. But I want to scream her lack of loyalty to Seth too.

I need a shower.

I stand under the hot water. My eyes are closed, I turn the water up as hard and as hot as I can get it and it pelts across my shoulders. It doesn't make me feel any better.

I'm pissed at Ness. I am. But right now, I'm even more pissed off at my traitorous body that's still sporting a boner from the way she touched my face. Her finger tips were so soft and warm, and I think I can still feel the zing her tracing touch left behind.

She really is so beautiful. And for the first time, in…forever. I allow myself the luxury to think she might actually feel something for me in return. But even if she does. She's with Seth. And I'm not going to do that to him. I won't be one of those guys. Even if they break up, there has to be a huge timeframe between her and him; and her and me.

Huge.

I start to soap up and I'm in two minds how to deal with the massive woody I've got going on. Putting aside my indecision for the moment I realise that I can't hide out in the locker rooms all night. I'm Captain. I need to get back to the team. I need _it_ gone, ASAP. But the question is, do I let it _deflate_ on its own? Or take matters into my own hands. Not sure which'll be quicker. If we had gang showers, there's no way I'd consider it. But I feel safe behind this half-height wall. My soapy hand makes its way over my chest and abs, and a sneaky little swipe of the little J, and my decision's been made. Soaping up it is. It's not like I've never relived a Ness induced boner before, it's basically a daily occurrence these days.

"What do you mean by _boyfriend_?"

I let out a very emasculating squeal, turning around to see Ness standing the other side of that half wall. Her eyes closed, her hand holding out a fresh white towel.

'"Fuck Ness! Do you mind?" I squeal-yell, my hands instinctively moving to cover my junk.

"Yes, I do mind. I have my eyes closed. Now, tell me. What do you mean, '_my boyfriend'_?"

"Seth," I say rinsing off the soap and silently begging my dick to go to sleep.

"When have I ever given you the impression that I'm dating Seth?"

"What do you mean? Um… like… All the time," I retort, turning off the water and taking the towel from her hands. "Thanks. You guys are always sitting with your heads together. The sexy dancing that night. You sit with him at lunch."

"I talk to you more than I talk to him, and _we're _not dating. I danced with you that night, just as much, just as close… closer, I think. And _you're_ not _my_ boyfriend. And I sit with Seth, for _one_ hour a day, because he needs the friend more than you do Jake." She has her eyes closed but I can see the anger she's gunna have behind the lids.

"Well what do you call the kissing then Ness? I bet _he_ thinks you're dating."

"What?" she asks. Stopping dead in her tracks, her eyes opening to look at me. Or at least at the top half of me that she can see above the partition. I'm not coming out of the stall with nothing but a little towel to hide my stiffy.

"The kissing." I repeat as if it's obvious.

Her face contorts into a confused, scrunched up kind of repulsion. "I haven't kissed Seth?"

"Well _Seth_ says you have." The misgivings of her statement is laced through my words.

"HE WHAT?!" she screeches, moving forward, her hand braced on the top of the wall. She's so short that without bending, she could rest her chin on the top tile comfortably.

"That first week you arrived. When we went to the movies. He told Quill that he'd kissed you.

"He told Quill?" she asks like a parrot, simply repeating my words in confusion. Then her eyes search around the room as she appears to think, finally landing on me and her face morphs into a pissed off irritation, her eyes narrowing as they un-focus and look beyond. "That little fucker," she mumbles to herself.

She looks directly at me now, her conviction and focus solely on me. Her eyes tunnel into mine, willing me to comprehend, "I'm not dating Seth. I have _never_ dated Seth and I never will."

"Does _Seth _know this?" I ask acting as my friend's protector and still hiding my boner behind the wall.

"YES he know it! He doesn't even have a crush on _me _Jake!" her eyes widening was she speaks.

"Then why would he make up that you're dating?"

"As a diversion," she states blandly, sucking in a deep breath and releasing it with a sigh.

"A diversion from what?" I ask.

She rubs her face with her hands, peaking out at me over her fingertips. "You have no clue do you?"

"No clue about what?" Obviously, I'm clueless.

She seems to hold her breath for a few seconds, then lets out another sigh after a few more. "About Seth."

"What about him Ness?"

"If you and me Jake. If we… got together," she hesitates. The idea of her and I together still does little to help my problem behind the towel. "If we dated, it might upset Seth a little. But it wouldn't be because of _me_," she says carefully, her words long and well enunciated.

I don't get it.

"He might be upset _at_ me, because I'd be dating _you_." Again she's articulating slowly; and slowly, I feel the pieces falling into place. "I had no idea he's told you all we were dating," she swears, "and I'm gunna have a few words with the little shit about that later."

"Because of _me_?" I say, not following the last thing she's said. My brain is still stuck, like one of my dad's old vinyl records when the needle gets to the center. Around and around. '_I'd be dating_ _you…I'd be dating you_…_I'd be dating YOU_.' Like it's an actual possibility. Like… she like-like's me. Not Seth. Around and around; she likes me, she likes me; She. Likes. _ME_. I must have a goofy smile on my face, I can't contain it.

But my mind's caught also on a second loop, the B side; The _Seth_ side. He never kissed her. He'd be upset at _her_ if we dated. All this keeps me coming to one conclusion. But it doesn't compute. He's like my brother. How do I not know this? I don't care. But how do I not know this?

"Jake. I think Seth has been in love with you since he was twelve. I think he's idolized you in some form or fashion _all_ his life."

"Seth's in love with me?" What is this crazy world? I have no clue how I've missed this fact.

"Yeah."

"But he's with you?"

"No, he's not."

"You're Seth's. That's why I can't ever be more than just your friend." I feel a little numb inside. Stupefied by how grossly I've misinterpreted things.

"I have wanted to be more than your friend, Jacob Black, since that day you charged into my bathroom, punching my vanity in nothing more than a towel and a soaking pair of boardies." Her voice is deeper than I've ever heard it. It's breathy and seductive and I want to kiss her so bad right now.

This little admission of hers is like a whiff of smelling salts. Restoring and alerting me… setting me alight. "You want to be more than friends?'

She pushes off from where she has been leaning against the partition. And slowly, one foot crossing in front of the other, her hands walking over the square white tiles of the partition, she approaches. "Yes. From the moment I touched your broken hand and I felt it all the way through to my soul. Even when you were so broken over _her. _ I wanted so badly to fix it for you Jacob. To show you just how worthy of love you are."

"So you're not Seth's."

"No."

"Seth's gay?" I need to confirm her single status.

She smirks a little at me, a pleased look glinting in her eye. "Yes."

"You never dated him?"

"No Jake. The only feelings he has for me are purely platonic."

"But not platonic for me?"

"No. Not for you."

"And you want to be more than my friend?'

"Yes. Yes Jake. I want to be much more than your friend."

My breath punches out of my lungs. Like I've just been whacked in the gut with the best news of my entire life. "Can I kiss you now?"

"Yes."

So I do.

My lips meet hers hastily, my good hand pulling her face into mine and I kiss her. My lips moulding around hers, moving and massaging. Our breath mingling.

She tastes like cherries too.

Her lips open slightly and I waste no time running my tongue along the inner rim of her lip. Licking all that cherry flavour off of them. I'm kissing Ness, and she's kissing me back. And she wants to be here. She never mixes my name up with someone else's. She's here and she's choosing me. Bella never chose me, not really.

She pulls away slightly, her body still pressed against me, her eyes looking up though the longest lashes I've ever seen, "So I just want to confirm," she starts hesitantly, "you're not still hung up on Bella?"

"Bella who?" I say, feigning confusion.

"And the only reason you haven't made another move since we kissed at that party is 'cause you thought I was already dating Seth?"

"Correct." I smile, shaking my head a little at the whole situations. It could be comical if it hadn't been so very frustrating.

She smiles one of her patented lottery wining smiles as her hands reach up and her arms wind around my neck and back. I can feel her breasts pressed against my chest, my gut is tight from the waves of excitement bubbling through us as my lungs are filled with her radiance.

She's worn her hair down tonight and my fingers tangle in the soft curls; they _are_ as soft as I'd imagined they would be. Suddenly, from this revelation, I'm allowed to dabble in those fantasies and imaginings.

I grab a handful of that wet-dream fantasy hair and use it to bring her lips in closer to mine. My mouth is hungry. Like it's been starved of her cherry lips for all these weeks and my life depends on receiving her nourishment.

I think she likes it from the soft moan she echoes in the back of my mouth. Her tongue enters and I suck it in deeper and return the favour. Running over the inner edge of her teeth, tickling the ridges on the roof of her mouth.

I let my hands wonder down into the dip of her waist and then to the small of her back. She curves under my fingers and I feel the familiar pull of the loins. I break off the kiss only to catch breath. She must have a better lung capacity than me because she never stops. She moves her lips along my jaw and down my neck. Her fingertips explore every rise and her lips trail in their wake. Her kisses send a shiver of desire over me and I press into her. No more hiding my need. I want her to feel what she does to me. What she's been doing to me for weeks.

"Oh my god Ness." I breathe as her hands filter downwards over my abs and make no attempt to stop.

"We," she breathes, her lips kissing over my bare chest. "Are," her tongue circling a nipple. "The dumbest," she moves to the other nipple. "People," her teeth grazing the little nub. "In the whole world," she mutters through her teeth, the sound vibrating my flesh in the cleverest of ways.

I couldn't agree more. How we haven't communicated; A) our feelings for each other and B) her lack of feelings for, _and_ lack of actually being with, Seth, is a mystery to me.

"The dumbest." I agree, my voice thick with want as I stoop down to consume her mouth again. Her body presses flush with mine. She's standing between my legs and her soft stomach is pressing into my rigid heat. It's only her shirt and my towel between us. I feel her hand lower and press through the towel, over my hard extension. It's a long flat, open handed stroke. Full of confidence and patience.

I don't show the same forbearance. As her hand starts to partially wrap around me, I make this growl kind of sound. Even to me, that's hot. My lips press harder in to hers, my hands falling into place over her hips and I walk her backwards. We leave the confines of the half stall and her back finds the metal of the end locker. Loudly. In nothing but a towel I have her pinned up against the metal. My hand that has been tangled in her hair slowly, tortiously, slides down the side of her neck, over the line of her clavicle and to the rise of her tits.

Her breath is accelerated, her chest heaving and pressed up. She raises up on to her toes, achieving two things; more pressure between our kiss and the lifting of her boobs into my hand. Like a lock and a key, they fit together. My hand and her tits. They're soft and round and a fair bit more than a hand full. That is _so_ all right by me.

We kiss a little longer, my mouth keeping sync with the kneading of my hand until she shifts back down on to flats and our lips part. My hand doesn't… it just lowers down with her boob.

"We can't Jake, not in here, and one of us has to talk to Seth first." Her hand lifts smooth against my chest. Her palm warm above my thumping heart. A symbolic gesture of stop and desist yet all the while, not wanting to breaking the skin contact.

"Yeah. Your right," I breathe, layering a stream of kisses down her soft throat. As much as I'd like to lift her up and have my way with her against Felix Voltolini's locker. She's right. We shouldn't, so we don't.

"Okay." I breathe a bit more, finally breaking lip to skin contact and fixing my towel a little more securely over the ramrod trying to uncloak itself. "Okay. You want to go talk to Seth after the game? Or you want me to?"

'Seriously?" she whines, her head angling to the side. A humored, sly grin is on her lips. Both of her hands slap lightly on my chest.

"What?"

"You're seriously giving up that easily?" she asks. Her tiny frame is dwarfed by me, but it doesn't damper her confidence. Ness is so much surer of herself… and of _us_, than _she_ ever was.

"But?"

"I say, 'we should stop,' and you just go, 'yeah ok'?"

"Yes?"

"Why?"

"Because you're right." I say looking around the empty room. A few locker doors are open, shirts are hanging over corners and sneakers are strewn on the floor. It smells like Quil's ass in here—not that I know what Quil's ass smells like, but I think I can imagine.

"We're in the locker room. And I'm basically naked." I say as if she doesn't already know this. Her hands haven't stopped exploring me this whole time. Ness is so confident in her explorations. Assertive. _Her _hesitancy was all always a distraction. I like the self-assurance of _this_ woman. She knows what she wants. She knows _who_ she wants…Me.

"I'm so sick of being right," she exhales over my skin, lacing my fingers through hers and lifting our hands up and back over her breast, leaving my hand there to do as it pleases. She presses her little body into me, moving against the towel. "You don't _feel_ like you agree we should stop," she whispers.

Her lips brush against my neck, as she breezes warm, cherry scented air over me. My body is now moving of its own accord. My hips gently rock into her, in time to the gentle tweaking of her nipple through the lace and cotton. The metal behind her back squeaks with each press I make, keeping beat to our pursuits. Her face is buried against my neck and her tongue laves long heated strokes up my throat. It's incredibly fucking sexy.

Her fingers play at the edge of the towel over the bulge of my erection. "And there's no _basically_ about it Jake. You _are_ naked under the towel." Her petite hand strokes over my swaddled Little J, her assertive and skilled movements almost bringing me to my knees. Almost.

The air leaves my lungs and without realizing it, I've picked the tiny woman up and her legs are wrapped around me as I struggle to pull the neck of her shirt down over the swell of her breasts. I walk us a few steps over to a bench behind the main locker bank. It's a little more private, if someone was to, say… just come in, and just stand at the door. There is _no_ privacy however, if someone was to actually come _in_ the room; come in and see me standing almost naked with a girl wrapped around me. But at this point, I don't really care who sees. She's here. With her shirt pulled down, her bra on full display. With me. She's NOT Seth's.

She's mine.

My knees hit the wood of the bench and I stand her on it. She's taller than me like this and my face is buried in her cleavage in seconds. Her hands are running through my hair and down my back as my fingers pull the lace of her easily C cup down, exposing her fully. I can't believe we're doing this here, in the locker room during the 2nd quarter, but I don't dare stop us. She makes a little wanton sobbing sound as my lips wrap around a light pink bud. She is a delicious flavour of salt and nut and feminine musk. Drawing and sucking, my teeth grazing while all I want to do is bite. It's a little unsettling, this compulsion. So instead I shift, my hand pulling the other twin out and latching on. She pulls me in closer, my face buried like I'm bobbing for apples, only it's a tiny cherry, and it's being yielded into my mouth.

My hands both slide down her curves, tracing her hourglass figure. From the swell of her breasts to the dip of her waist to the swell of her hips again. Somewhere in the back of my mind I can feel the sharp sting of my knuckle and the fact that a football game is being played out side that door, but it's forgotten as my hands slip over that skirt and then back up and underneath. My fingers gliding along the soft flesh of her thighs around the silky material covering her ass. Nessie's ass. What I wouldn't give to be _inside_ those panties right now. I've wanted in to these pants for going on a month now. That sounds crass and debauched, I know. But I'm seventeen, give me break. But I do want to be in her pants, and then in _her_. I want her body against mine. Her lips, her tits, her legs and hands to be wrapped around me. One day soon, I hope.

She's quickly become by best friend and I want the potential of our friendship explored to its furthest extent. I want her to love me in the same way I'm realizing I love her. I want my heart to be in her hands. Because I can feel her essence fill my lungs and I can breathe. I breathe her in.

Her hands move to the sides of my face, lifting my lips off her chest and back on to her now bright red cherry mouth. I want my heart in her hands, but I'll settle for my face for now.

She's bent down to kiss me, her arms lean against the top of my shoulders and her hands cup around my face and along my jaw, tiny warm fingers scrape against my scalp.

My hands continue to smooth over the line of her ass in those panties, where the silk meets skin; back and forth, up and down, around and around. She is so round and feminine. Still under the skirt, they weave around to the front, my thumbs tracing the line between the little band of lace at the top and the soft skin of her hips. But then she freezes. Her stomach curling back as she pulls away.

"Oh God Jake. I'm sorry. But, we can't do this. Not here, not like this," she breathes pausing us in the position were in. We both rest against each other, panting and catching our breath for a few moments before she straightens, stuffing herself back into her bra and lifting up her now slightly stretched tank.

I stand upright, my hands dropping to their sides. I close my eyes and lean my head back as I desperately try to come back from that precipice I was just on. She jumps off the bench and grabs my shorts that are hanging off my locker door. "I'm sorry. I am _so_ sorry. You have _no_ idea," she moans wrapping her arms around me. A not so subtle press into my still huge erection giving me a pretty good idea of how sorry she is. Don't worry Ness. I get it… trust me. I get it.

I'm just standing there like an idiot as she flitters about, fixing herself up and leading me to my locker. "You're right. I was right. We can't do this, we can't just make out in here," she says coming to face me, her eyes looking up at me, trying to decide if I'm pissed, hurt, or just dazed by these last five or so minutes.

"I thought you were sick of being right," I ask, finally snapping out of my phallic induced waking coma and grabbing my boxers from the locker shelf. I'm not pissed or hurt. She's right. We can't do this. I mean, we _can, _technically. Shit, we a just did, but what she means and what I'm thinking, is that we _shouldn't._ And if I can just put my throbbing dick aside for the moment, I don't want to. Not here. Not like this. Not really.

"I am," she groans, "I want to be all sorts of wrong with you Jacob. But-" I don't let her finish. My lips are on her again. Her lips, her cheeks, her jaw. I stoop over and butterfly kisses down her throat as she lets out a small whimper.

"If we stop this now," I say, my tongue flicking playfully against her ear, "then I want a promise out of you that it's not over."

She smiles up at me and I'm struck by just how pretty her eyes are. They're not just that run-of-the-mill brown, they're lightened by those sunbursts of gold. Like the inner light of her is just bursting to fracture through, to show the world just how divine she is.

"Over?" she asks, a smile across her lips like she's just won a prize. "Jake, _this," _she gestures between the two of us, "this has just begun," she hums, her voice husky and rich, a single brow rising up in promise.

Her body leans into me until the tips of her breasts press against me and the tip of my cock is against her. "I may have had a little more experience in the ways of dating, but I'm no slut. I'm not a cock tease either."

I hazard a glance down to my still full mast boner as it tents out under the thin cotton checked shorts. Not a cock tease- my ass. Her line of sight must follow mine 'cause she lets out deep bellied laugh. "I'm really not,"' she laughs, "honest. I just got caught up. That's what you do to me, boy. It's what you've been doing to me for weeks."

"Weeks?' I ask. My teeth gripping my own lip in a smile as I try to hide my pleasure at her admission.

"Weeks," she assures, nodding. Our eyes are locked in a silent promise and our arms are holding one another. We stand there like that for what seems like an eternity. Lost in our own bubble. It's the least amount of talking we've ever done, yet the most that's ever been said.

I'm vaguely made aware of a roar of noise outside the building and the spell is broken. In fact it's shattered. I realize that, I am, in fact, standing in nothing more than boxer shorts, wrapped up in a girl that the entire populous of the school thinks is Seth's girlfriend. By the sound of the crowd and the time on the wall, I've missed almost the entire first half of the game. _My_ team's game. The team I'm supposed to be Captain for. Coach is gunna have my ass. And we are so caught if it's halftime.

"I think it's half time," I say, struggling to get my shorts on while hunched over so she won't see my boner. I don't know why I'm bothering to hide my junk. She just had her hand around it only two minutes ago. But I am. So I struggle to get my shorts on like Quasimodo. And she helps me by grabbing my crunched up shirt and turning it the right way round for me. She never stops helping me.

"Ness," I say as I pull my under shirt over my head, "if it's half time you gotta get out of here."

"Oh shit. Right. Yes. Ok." She says, pausing in front of me, looking up, a small, sad smile forming.

"What's wrong?" I ask softly, slipping my feet into my sneakers.

"I don't want to leave you right now. What I really want to do is hold your hand and walk out with you. But you're right. I have to talk to Seth and figure something out first." I nod my understanding. I feel the same.

"I'm gunna kill him by the way," she adds, she's even pretty when she's mad. "It won't be hard to be irritated with him and have a public break up. I'd really like to be consulted _before_ I agree to become someone's _beard."_

I can't help but let out a little laugh. Beard. It's funny. But I cut that laugh off so quick when she gives me that look. I don't want to incur the wrath of Ness.

"I can't believe I didn't know," I say pulling a fresh jersey over my head, steering the subject back to Seth and why she's angry with him and not me.

"You seriously had no inkling?" she asks as if she's known from the first day they met. She probably has. I grab her hand and we walk together the few feet to the closed but not locked door.

"Why would I? He talks about girls. He's dated girls. He hangs out with the guys. He plays football. He…" I pause, pulling away and rubbing my face with my hand. "I'm such a stereo-typing douche. Aren't I?" I say, cringing at my own lack of PC.

"No," she mollifies. "Well, yes. But I think it's forgiven. I… I just can't understand how you've never seen the way he looks at you," she asks, bringing me back to the only bit about this that makes me uncomfortable.

"I mean. I've seen him looking at me. Sure. But I just thought it was a little bit of teen idol worship. Like… he's JV QB. He wants to learn about cars. He follows me around the reservations like I'm his best friend." I taper off. He does follow me around a fair bit. He's uber-helpful. Always laughing at the jokes I say. I'm not _that_ funny. He always saves me a seat at tribe stuff.

He has a fucking crush on me...

How the hell am I supposed to deal with that? I don't know if is okay for me to say this anymore, but—I love the guy. But not like that!

I just want Ness to sort this Seth stuff out for me. I know I'll have to talk to him. Eventually. But not for a little while. Not tonight.

Tonight is game night. And I have to get back out there before I'm noticed missing. "Ok. So you're gunna talk to Seth?" I ask.

She nods. "After the game. But you're gunna have to talk to him about this too at some point. And I'd say sooner rather than later," she mandates, not promising to do all the dirty work for me.

"Yeah I will… Eventually." I hedge, not committing to any time frame. I'm kind of hoping that if I leave it long enough Ness will just deal with it for me.

She steps over to me, grabbing my jersey with both fists, and reaching up on tippy toes she pulls me down into a kiss. It's soft and sweet. She's claiming my lips as hers. I'm so _very_ ok with being owned. "When can I see you again?" she purrs, her lips still lightly brushing against mine as she talks.

"I got nothing on tomorrow. Want to go somewhere after your classes?"

"Okay. You wanna come over to my house at twelve? I'll make you lunch."

"Okay," I say, kissing her lips again.

"Okay," she says smiling up at me. Making no move to actually leave.

Ness," I laugh, "we can't go out there together."

"I know," she says, still not moving.

"You want me to go out first?"

"No. I'll go," she says sighing and kissing me for the last time before walking to the door her hand hovering on the handle. "Put that ice back on your hand," she orders pointing to the swollen mess of my throwing hand. "You know you're a fucking idiot, don't you?" she asks.

"Yes. I know." But there was no way I was gunna let Seth start.

"Okay, I'll see you in like twenty minutes? As my friend. Not my boyfriend. Not as someone who just kissed me until my knees went weak. Or who was _not_ just sucking on my bodacious tatas five minutes ago_,_" she taunts, breezing out the door.

I almost choke. I didn't know girls talked like that. Ness does, and it's fucking hot.

Seth can have my spot. I got the girl.


	20. Chapter 20- It's just Seth

_**Last time on P & C's...**_

_**"When can I see you again?" she purrs, her lips still lightly brushing against mine as she talks.**_

_**"I got nothing on tomorrow. Want to go somewhere after your classes?"**_

_**"Ok. You wanna come over to my house at twelve? I'll make you lunch."**_

_**"Ok," I say, kissing her lips again.**_

_**"Ok," she says smiling up at me. Making no move to actually leave.**_

_**Ness," I laugh, "we can't go out there together."**_

_**"I know," she says, still not moving.**_

_**"You want me to go out first?"**_

_**"No. I'll go," she says sighing and kissing me for the last time before walking to the door her hand hovering on the handle. "Put that ice back on your hand," she orders pointing to the swollen mess of my throwing hand. "You know you're a fucking idiot, don't you?" she asks.**_

_**"Yes. I know." But there was no way I was gunna let Seth start.**_

_**"Ok, I'll see you in like twenty minutes? As my friend. Not my boyfriend. Not as someone who just kissed me until my knees went weak. Or who was not just sucking on my bodacious tatas five minutes ago," she taunts, breezing out the door.**_

_**I almost choke. I didn't know girls talked like that. Ness does, and it's fucking hot.**_

_**Seth can have my spot. I got the girl...**_

* * *

**Chapter 20 – It's just Seth.**

It isn't half time yet. It's about two minutes to go. The roar we heard from inside the locker rooms was us scoring. I sneak back to the benches and sit myself down, just out of coach's line of sight. Hopefully he thinks I've been here the whole time. And _not _making out with Ness in the boys showers.

We're still up when the half time buzzer does go, but only by one point. Apparently, we let in a touch down when I was busy scoring my own points inside.

We all pile into the locker room, it's the typical noisy shuffling of guys. Everyone's trying rehydrate a little and there is always the few who are busting for a piss. Jokes and laughter echo around the dank, rank room but there is a little tension in the air tonight that wasn't here before the game—I'm not too sure where it's comin' from, we normally all get along pretty good. I see coach talking quietly to Seth, he looks like a deer caught in headlights. He's nodding an ah-ha-ing but he doesn't look as confident as a Varsity QB should be.

After a while coach calls the team in and they discuss a few minor changes. From what I _have_ seen of the game, they all make sense. I am also waiting for an ass reaming from Coach, for not telling him about my hand. Not that he knows beyond a doubt that I bent the truth. But that diving touchdown I made shouldn't have ended up with my hand looking like it now does. Not if had been properly healed anyway.

But the ass reaming doesn't come. Instead he asks me what I thought of the Draw Play just before the other team scored. Oh Fuck. He totally knows I wasn't watching the 2nd quarter. He's looking at me as if to say, '_well come on kid. Fess up_.' I stammer a little. Not really wanting to get into the nitty gritty of what the fuck I was _actually_ doing for those ten minutes.

"I…. I… um, actually coach, I was still getting ice for my hand. I missed it. I'm sorry." I go with honesty being the best policy. Except I'm lying by omission. Technically I wasn't getting ice. Ness got that for me before the first quarter was even done. But it's not a _complete_ lie. Not really. I don't get to find out if he bought my story or not because Lahote pipes in giving Seth a mouthful and putting a voice to the cause of that tension I sensed.

"It was fucking late, that's what it was," Paul interrupts, throwing a pissed off look towards Seth who just lowers his head not looking at Lahote. "If you throw that god damn ball late one more time Clearwater, I swear I'm gunna come and shove that pig skin so far—"

"Lahote!" coach bellows, "Hush your mouth young man. Yes, we've had a few late throws. I've talked to Seth about it. Now is not the time."

He stares as Paul for a few tense heartbeats. Neither wanting to be the first to break.

"You understand me boy?" coach asks, no _request_ in his tone whatsoever ever. Paul blinks, straightening and stepping back. The guy's a great running back but he can be and asshole with a temper and a big mouth.

I feel bad for Seth. Paul has called me out at half time once before and I fucking hated it. And to make things worse, the fucker only says something if he's blameless. It's so infuriating to be called on that kind of stuff so publicly. At least I had the confidence to tell him to fuck of. Seth, on the other hand, he just takes it.

And with that, the team talk is over. Everyone goes about their own thing. I just sit down on a bench. Actually, it's the bench I had a pretty much topless Ness on just ten minutes ago—not that I can tell anyone. So I just sit and day dream about how good her titties felt under my hands. Oh Christ I hope her aunt and uncle are out when I get to her place tomorrow.

Quil comes over to me for a bit and my attention is forced back to the coming and goings of the team.

"So you fucked your hand up again?" he asks, flopping down in the seat next to me his helmet in one hand and a water bottle in the other.

"Yeah. I hope it's not too bad. Hurts like a bastard though."

"You sure you can't play?" he asks, leaning his head back and squirting some Gatorade down his gullet. "_You're _our QB_._ Clearwater is changing the plays every freakin' huddle and even though he's an asshole, Paul's right. If he's not late to throw, he's under throwing. It's driving us all crazy."

"Give the kid a chance Quil, he's just a sophomore."

"Yeah, well, I'm just saying we work better with you Jake," he's pouting like a little kid whose friend isn't allowed out to play.

I laugh a little. I shouldn't be so smug about it. But, well, fuck it… I am.

"Hey, I was gunna hitch a ride with Emb into PA tomorrow. Wanna come?"

Oh fuck. I don't want to lie to my buddy. But I can't tell him I'm meeting Ness either. Not yet.

"Ah, probably not. I got to get this fucker x-rayed," I say holding up my hand wrapped in ice. "Who knows how long that'll take. And dad's been a little sick the last few days. I'd better just stay home."

I'm a liar and I just used my dad's diabetes as a pretence for secretly seeing my girlfriend no one knows about. I'm going to hell.

He accepts my excuse with ease though and we sit for a little until Coach yells for us to go back out. He puts his helmet back on and the team runs back on the field. Without me. But with Seth instead.

I have still managed to avoid Seth this whole time, but of course, Murphy's Law has him stop as he passes by me.

"Hey Jake?"

I look at him, but only briefly, not maintaining eye contact. This is the first time I've talked to him since I've talked to Ness… about him. I don't know why I'm so weirded out. Actually, I _do_ know. Turns out my little brother from another mother… is gay. _Gay_. And he has a crush on me. So, yeah, I'm a little weirded out.

In all honestly, I think I'd act the same if I found out a chick— that I thought was just a friend— had a crush on me and I didn't reciprocate it. But it does bother me that I'm being so weird and cagey all of a sudden. I'm okay with whatever's going on with him and whatever his persuasion might be. I really am.

But I'm still a little pissed at him too— I'm pissed on Nessie's behalf, _and_ for the fact that all this confusion has stopped us from being together sooner.

I get why he might be trying so hard to make it look like he likes girls… and not boys. High school is brutal. The kids can be merciless. Why do you think I'm so paranoid that Ness and Seth break up— with witnesses— _before_ she and I go public? I don't think she cares—she's been through worse—but I do not want Nessie branded and shunned as a two timing slut or something. Not happening on my watch.

So, because of this I understand, theoretically, why Seth has encouraged people's assumptions. But I'm still weirded out a bit… for personal reasons. And I don't want to be, so I resolve to try to be as normal as possible.

"Yeah?" I say, responding finally to his enquiry, making sure I maintain the eye contact that I normally would. Something has been up with us for the last few weeks but we haven't talked about it. He probably assumes it the hand thing. It kind of is. But it's really been more about the Nessie factor and that's all it is about now. I know he's noticed things are weird with me by the out of character stammering and hesitance he approaches me with. Now I feel like shit for basically ignoring him this last month.

"Ahhh, I just wanted to ask you," he starts cautious, "ahhh, Coach wants us to play a 'QB power –G', and, um…what's the G?"

And then, all of sudden…it's just us. Seth asking me stuff— like he always does. I'm just Jake helping Sethie. My little Bro. I forget about all of it for a minute. We're just in his backyard and were talking Plays.

Even more importantly though. Tonight. Right now. We're in the locker rooms just about to take on the third quarter. And I'm helping him remember the slight differences in plays that drive us all insane yet, as QB's, we have to know. Everyone else just thinks 'oh I'll just ask the QB' when they can't remember. When you _are_ the QB, you have no one to ask. But Seth has me.

So we huddle together and we go over the play, I remind him how to use his body to at least get the mechanics of his throw right and with a thanks and a fist bump, he jogs on to the field.

I make my way outside and I settle back on the side line bench, my focus back on to the team and the game at hand. When it's our turn to play the offensive, they stick with the QB power—G. The play goes down without a hitch. Marcus Hardman is playing wing, he kicks out and goes after the play side corner. Paul takes the hand-off from Seth cleanly and gets vertical quickly. Right through a bubble before the Aberdeen End man that Quil brings down can close in.

It's a great play. Works just as it should have. Doesn't get us any points, but we got at least three yards, and it's a great play nonetheless. Seth hasn't thrown a short ball this whole quarter, and his accuracy is better. I kind of wish I was out there right now.

So I'm back into watching the game. Watching my friends and teammates let in another touchdown and watch them come off the field for the end of the third quarter frustratingly down 12 to Aberdeen's 13. But as disappointed as I am for the guys, I'm happy Seth has a decent third quarter and the guys should be off his back. Just, I don't want him having so good a game as that he's gunna replace me when I'm fit again. I'm _that_ self-seeking. At least I'm honest about it…to myself at least. Ness knows this about me too and she still likes me.

* * *

I see Ness in the crowd a few times over the course of the third quarter, we simply share a smile. A few of the cheerleaders are doing their best to catch my eye too. Waving like those kind of chicks do. More than happy to have their short skirts and midriffs on display. Hair flicking and giggling like bimbos, showing off how high their legs can go—which is pretty high. But it means shit. I mean… they're hot, but the problem is… they know they are. Lizzie and the Spencer twins, I think between them, they've all had a turn fucking the majority of my friends. Except for Quill, he won't be getting laid until his thirties. It would just make their day though, if I gave one of them the full house of Red hearts on the native deck. Me being the ace of hearts. Ever since it became common knowledge that I was back on the market, they've been in overdrive trying to get into my pants. But I'm not interested, I got me a tutu that I've wanted into for weeks.

I have decided, categorically, that cheerleaders have nothing on ballerinas. At least not the ones at our school. They're kind of fit, but there is no way they could do the stuff I've seen Ness do. And it shows in the way she carries herself; her posture, the definition in her limbs, the way she moves her body, but it's not even about her body or her looks. Ness is far more beautiful inside than she is out, and I think that's saying something, 'cause she's fucking spectacular to look at. So after a simple eye brow raise, and get a 'get a life' kind of smile to the other girls, I look back out to the field. I'm trying to be inconspicuous before I turn back to the stands, back to Ness.

Our eyes meet and I can't suppress the smile that slips over my lips. She's seen the whole one-way flirting exchange with half of the cheer squad. There is a green fire in her eyes, but it's softened by the confidence of possession. This is still so new, and still, regrettably, secret. But Ness smiles down at me from the stands, with the knowledge of our locker room confessions still ringing in our ears.

It fills up my chest when she smiles at me like that. Especially now that I know the thoughts behind that grin. Just her smiling at me ,with the knowledge that she actually likes me back, is enough to lift me out of any longing for the field I had. Cause she's mine. No one knows it yet. But she is.

She's mine… and not Seth's.

But Seth likes _me._

So because of this, and as much as I don't want to be, I'm still weirded out and I totally avoid him for the next time the offensive team is off the field. It's not hard though, Ness came down to field level and he's been talking to her over the fence for the last five minutes.

I try my best not to spy. I'm failing at it miserably. I'm not jealous, I just want to know what she's saying to him. I don't think that right now, in the middle of a game, is the best time for her to tear him a new one for using her as a beard without telling her about it. I mean, is there ever a good time for _that _conversation? I doubt it. Luckily for Seth, and judging by his stupid smile…she's not…yet.

They're just talking, she's probably just boosting his self-esteem—she's so good at doing that. Twice I catch Ness's eye as she steals a glance at me. Our eyes meet and we reaffirm our mutual feeling for each other. My gut does a little somersault. She's not peeking at Seth like that. Now that I know what I'm looking for, she never has. He tries to put his arm casually on her shoulder over the fence. Again, now that I'm in the know, I realize this gesture _is_ a little ambiguous on his behalf. Not necessarily platonic, but nothing risqué about it either. It's funny how I'd always read it one way, and Ness, the opposite. Not tonight though.

She moves out from his hand, not very graciously, I might add. Giving him a bit of a pull of the shoulder and a small grimace of veto. Then she gives him a look every guy knows, gay or straight, that look of 'we need to talk'. And once again, I feel sorry for Seth. It occurs to me that if Ness and I don't handle this whole thing right and Seth gets somehow hurt, then not only will I feel like a heated up piece of turd, but we'll also have to answer to his sister Leah. And that is a consideration I _do not_ want to contemplate.

So, I'm _not_ gunna avoid him, I've decided. At least not as of Monday at school. I might try and talk to him this weekend, actually. After I see Ness tomorrow. And once I know that he knows that I know. Cause, I want her to do that for me. I'm a sissy.

So, I'm gunna avoid Seth the rest of tonight…But only a little. And at the same time Ness is determined to not avoid me tonight…at all.

"Hey!" she calls out from behind the fence, getting my attention and motioning for me to come over when Seth is back on the field somewhere in the middle of the fourth.

I give her this, 'are you kidding look'. I thought we were trying to be discrete. She just smiles at me, her beautiful teeth, white and straight and I can't resist. I get up from my spot on the bench and walk over to her, all the time looking around to see who's watching us.

"Would you quit looking so guilty," she laughs as I reach her. "I just want to say hi— as your friend. Like I would have even if you hadn't just had your tongue half way down my throat."

"Sssh," I say looking around. Jane Turner is looking at me, but she's always staring at me. Freak.

Ness just laughs in response. "Oh come on Jake. Be normal. It'll be more obvious of we just suddenly stop talking after being BFF's for the last fortnight." I think she means the last two weeks. I I remember that from Shakespeare in English class. Ness is so well read. And smart; she has a point, and I visibly relax, adjusting the ice bag around my hand.

"How sore is it?"

I shrug. "I don't think it's quite as bad as when I first did it. Maybe it's not too bad." I say lifting the nearly melted ice inside the plastic bag off. The bruising is apparent even on my darker skin.

"Oh shit babe. That looks so sore."

Her use of a pet name is comforting and it makes happy. I like it coming from her lips. I want to hear it again. But if we're serious about keeping this on the DL for a little while, it's dangerous.

"Yes _Renesmee,"_ I say, highlighting my use of her full name, hoping she'll realize her use of the moniker, "it's pretty sore. It's like I was using it or something after I injured it? Maybe I lifted something up and didn't rest it?" I say, mock seriousness in my poorly veiled sentence. I can't help but be happy in her presence.

"All right, all right," she pouts cheerfully, "point taken, _Jacob_," she says, her eyes rolling slightly, a sassy glint still to her eyes.

They're beautiful.

"I have some Tylenol," she says reaching into the soft brown leather hand bag hanging across her chest and rifling through it. "Do you want some?"

"Please," I say holding my good hand out.

She pops two out of the blister pack, directly in to my palm and I throw them down dry.

"How can you do that?" she asks, "I have to have like, a cup of water per tablet or else I gag."

I just look at her. The mention of her gag reflex is making this pantomime only harder. "Well I guess you just need more practice." I retort dryly, a touch of proposition in my attitude.

She looks at me for a second, as if to asses my tone. It only takes a moment and I see the awareness wash over her and her cheeks color. She play slaps me on the shoulder. "Jake!"

"What? You said it."

"I was talking about tablets," she squeals.

"So was I!" I lie, my laugh and grin not fooling her for a second.

"You're terrible."

"But you love it," I smile.

She looks at me, her eyes softening as she considers me. "Yeah. I do," she states, her voice warm and loving and not at all what we want to be showing the population of the school.

"You say that to all the boys," I quip, snapping her out of her rapture and before I have an excited heart attack over her pretty much declaring that she loves me.

She clears her throat, centering herself and squaring her shoulders. I think she just realized the enormity of what she's just said. I hope she doesn't regret it. "So Seth is having an okay game?"

I shrug, "Yeah, Okay. Nothing stellar. It's a massive deal for him though; to play Varsity,"

"So would it be a big blow to his ego if I have words with him directly after the game?"

"You know, a little public argument might be a good thing. Don't let anyone hear what it's about, but…" I pause, felling like we're guilty of something. I don't know what. But I feel guilty nonetheless. "I feel like such an asshole talking about this Ness."

"I know, but… he shouldn't have let everyone think we were dating. If I give him a little public dishing out, then that his fault."

"What's whose fault?" Seth asks, coming up to talk to us. I've missed the final buzzer. I look over my shoulder to see the score. Same. Not a flogging but still no win points on the standings for the Spartans.

"Yours!" Ness says a little loudly, a very high school girlish flick of her head. She's a good little actor and obviously she's decided that _now_ is a good time to start the public proceedings.

"Riiiight." I say, backing away from the fence. "I'm, just, gunna… go"

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she asks, wiling me to be okay with her laying things out for our mutual friend. I look over at Seth and he's looking at me cautiously. I think I see a little fear in his eye. Like he's figuring out that maybe I know. Not that I care. But he obviously does. He's looking between Ness and me and I think _that_ penny may have just fallen too. I've kept my feelings for Ness pushed down, down, down. But I doubt they've been completely veiled. I'm pretty sure Embry knows. He's seen me staring.

I look back at Ness and I can't deny her anything. I smile. I know it's that pantie dropping smile too, I can't help it. I want her to drop her panties. "Yeah. I'll see you after the x-rays," I say backing up and moving over to the team and over to the part of the world where everyone thinks Seth and Ness are dating, where they think I'm still heartbroken over Bella and Nessie and I are just friends. And no one is any the wiser.

After a team talk and a few ignored backward glances from Embry, I head home a little earlier than normal. I don't feel like shooting the breeze with the guys. And Emb's too good at getting the truth out of me.

* * *

Dad is watching TV when I get home. An empty bowl of what looks like chocolate ice cream, the _non_-diabetic type. And a poorly hidden packet of moon pies in the kitchen bin.

"How was it?" he asks as I grab a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and sit on the sofa next to him.

"We lost 12 -13 and I stuffed my hand up again. I've got to go see the doctor in Forks tomorrow," I say around a bite. I don't think I've ever seen Ness eat a banana. I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that.

"What happened to your hand? I thought you said it was healed?" dad asks, my thoughts pulled from Nessie's mouth around banana shaped things.

"I lied."

"What the hell Jacob? Why would you lie about a broken bone? You could have damaged it more. What if you could never hold a ball properly again?"

Dad is so focused on my football. It's his topic of choice when it comes to bragging about me. I kind of wish he'd focused on the fact that I could have fucked my _writing_ hand up. That would really make doing exams hard. Exams like finals and writing collage applications. I don't think he really believes I'm actually gunna get into college. My sister Rachel is the first Black to do it and it saddens me that he doesn't seem to be encouraging me on this front. Ness does though.

I try to cover my private smirk at the thought of her as I repeat her insult. "I know," I say. "I'm an idiot. Coach is gunna want more than just my word before he lets me play again. I'm gunna need a doctor's note."

"You want me to come with you to see the doctor?" he asks, lifting a can of Rainer from the other side of his chair. There are already two empty ones on the coffee table. "No," I say getting up and picking up the trash around him. "But I do want to you remember what your doctor said. Jesus dad, three beers _and_ ice cream? Do you _want_ them to chop your legs off?"

My father has been struggling with his diabetes for years. He's so numb now from the poor control of his sugar levels he's in that god damn chair. The diabetes doctor has told him time and time again that he's on a steady slope to loosing that left foot. Insulin means jack shit if he keeps on stuffing his face with booze and sugar. "Don't think I didn't see that moon pie wrapper in the trash." I know I'm taking to a brick wall, but I gotta keep on keeping on.

"See son," he quips, totally ignoring my haranguing, "good looks isn't the only thing you got from your old man. Looks to me like both of us are good at ignoring the doctors' orders." He tips his can at me before bring it to his lips and taking a few good swallows, the can upended as he finishes it off.

"At least I know when I've been an idiot, and I'm not gunna keep on doing something that is obviously gunna make things worse." I don't talk to my dad like this very much. But he is an obstinate fool sometimes, especially with three bears under his belt. Someone's gotta be the adult in this house. And sometimes, that someone is me.

"Alright, alright. Enough with the lecturing son," he says flicking the remote to a different sports channel. "I promise I'll eat a salad tomorrow. Will that make ya happy?"

"Sure, sure, dad, " I placate, because a salad is going to fix it all I think sarcastically.

We sit for a while, mindlessly watching the last quarter of the Nevada v. Washington State game. It doesn't take long for the old man to bring up the topic I've been waiting on him to bring up for weeks.

"So Washington State hey?"

"Yeah. Good school," I say. Making out that we're talking about the actual school not the people or _person_ who does or does _not_ go there. I'm so sick of people pussy footing around the Bella topic.

"Not good enough for Bella though?"

"Apparently not," I say keeping my eyes on the screen.

Of course dad knows about Bella's deferment. Him and Charlie gossip worse than old women. But I guess it's not really gossiping if you're confiding in your best friend, now is it? The curious sadomasochist in me wants to know what Charlie thinks of this whole debacle, but the self-preservation half of me doesn't really want to re hash this with dad right now. I think I'm finally at a point where I can let her go. Wish her and her douche a happy life and send her a nice congrats card when they get hitched.

"And neither was I," I add quietly. So, maybe I'm _not_ as over things as I think. I mean... I am, in regard to any romantic feelings for her. Because I now realize that what I _thought_ I felt for Bells was a watered down imitation in comparison for the feeling Ness stirs in me. But I guess I'm still harboring a little resentment and bitterness towards my ex. I think that's normal. I'm actually gunna let myself feel this anger, I think that's healthy enough, but I'm not gunna let it eat me up and consume me. And anyway, so much of me is consumed with thoughts of Ness tonight that I don't have any more time to spend on someone who doesn't matter anymore.

"You really all right with all this Jacob?"

I stop for a moment before answering. Turning on the cushion and looking directly at him. "You know what dad? I actually am. I mean, I wasn't… obviously," I say, gesturing to my short hair. "But I am now." I smile inwardly, but I think he sees it. That soul completing, lung filing, easy as breathing happiness.

"In fact, I'm better now than was when I was dating Bella. There was always a third person between us. And well, dad, I kind of want you to meet someone. No. I…I _want_ you to meet someone. Her name's Ness and well…. she's… she's." I want to say perfect, or my reason for living or-my everything-but I don't.

Dad helps me out by finishing my sentence for me. "She's yours."

The wind is knocked out of me. She's mine. There is no third person between us. It's funny, there actually _is_. Seth. And he's a _huge_ obstacle. But only an obstacle in regard to the timing and publicness of our relationship. I know that she's with me and just me, one hundred percent.

It's like she is just for me. Perfect for _me_. I know we have our fair share of baggage but…She's _mine._ I nod at my father in agreement. A question in my brows at the same time. How does he know what this girl I've never mentioned before already means to me?

"I know that look Jacob. I saw that look of completeness in the mirror every day for fourteen glorious years. You never had that look with Charlie's girl. You've had that look about ya for weeks now. You got you your ultimate '_Someone'_."

"My 'someone'," I mutter to myself, throwing myself back onto the couch. I like the sound of that. God I wish tomorrow lunch would come around already.

"And you hold on to her. Ya hear? You never know when that bitch of life says you've had long enough with your lifetime 'Someone'."

We aren't talking about me and Ness any more. I feel the sting in my eyes as I listen to my father say— without actually saying— just how much he loved my mother. How much he still does. I give him a break mentally for the three beers and the ice cream. He can lose his legs. He's already lost his 'Someone'.

After a moment he clears his throat. We don't talk about her much. And when we do it's always ambiguous and yet so very painful. "Well, I'm off to bed," he says quickly as he wheels towards me, stopping by my knees as I sprawl on the lounge happy reveling in my daydreams of Renesmee. "Com'ere Jake, you're never too old to give your old man a hug." His arms open wide waiting for me.

So I sit myself up and lean in. Letting my father envelop me the way he's done all of my life. As if a hug will make everything okay. It kind of does. "I'm real proud of ya son. She'd be proud of ya too. You know that right?"

I nod into his shoulder, my face pressed into his shirt.

"So when am I gunna meet this girl who is the reason our phone bill is gunna be doubled this month." He smiles, pulling back, a cheeky glint to his eye. "I've heard you jabbering away all hours of the night," he smirks. The old man just loving the prospect of getting a rise out of me.

"We don't talk _that_ much." I laugh, feeling the color on my cheeks. Nothing gets past the chief. I kid myself every time I think it has.

Still embraced in some rare father son time, I hear a car pull up outside the house and I stand to go check the front window. No one accidentally comes down our road. Not this far into reservation land. So I'm curious as to who would be in the neighborhood this late at night.

"Can she come over for lunch on Sunday?" I ask, moving the curtain aside. I see Seth getting out of hot looking silver sports convertible. "Oh shit," I mumble. I was gunna put this talk off for a few days. Looks like Seth has different ideas.

"What? Who is it?'" dad asks concerned, wheeling towards me.

"No, don't worry, it's just Seth."

"What's wrong with seeing Seth?" he asks. Ever since his dad died last year, my dad has made a point of being a little protective of his late friend's son.

"Nothing. Just… well I kind of thought that Seth had a thing for Ness. But he doesn't… but… Oh dad, it's complicated," I say, trying my best to explain without actually telling him anything.

"Complicated like he's making goo-goo eyes at _you_ instead of your girl?"

I spin on the spot, the drapes falling distractedly form my hands, my mouth gaping like one of those big salmons dad so loves to catch. "Are you kidding me? How the hell do _you_ know about this and I had no freaking clue?"

He just shrugs as there is a knock at the front door. "It's a Chief's job to know the ins and _outs _of the tribe," he says, spinning his chair and making a wheeled dash for the hall. Nice pun dad. Nice pun.

"Night," he calls before heading into his room. Freaking gossipmonger. He probably knew about Ness already too.

I step up to the door squaring off my shoulders and getting ready for what could quite possibly be the most awkward conversation of my life.

I open the door. My little brother from another mother is standing there, a cautious look across his face. "Hey Jake," he says quietly shifting nervously, back forth, from one foot to the other. "Can we talk?" his eyes glued to the worn paint of the porch floorboards.

I nod and step out on the porch and sit down on the step, patting the space beside me and looking to him over my shoulder. He looks so unsure, like a startled gazelle, only in Forks high school sweats.

He looks terrified.

That just won't do.

He's my brother.

"Sure Seth, let's talk."

* * *

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**Thank's Aretee for being my most awesome Beta.**


	21. Chapter 21 - I'm just his Khaleesi crush

**_Last Time on P & C's..._**

**_I open the front door. My little brother from another mother is standing there, a cautious look across his face. _**

**_"Hey Jake," he says quietly shifting nervously, back forth, from one foot to the other. "Can we talk?" his eyes glued to the worn paint of the porch floorboards._**

**_I nod and step out on the porch. I sit down on the step and pat the space beside me looking to him over my shoulder. He looks so unsure, like a startled gazelle, only in Forks high school sweats. He looks terrified._**

**_That just won't do._**

**_He's my brother._**

**_"Sure Seth, let's talk."..._**

* * *

**Chapter 21 – I'm just his Khaleesi crush**

"So," I say, pausing more than I should for the introduction of a _normal _conversation. We've been sitting out on my front porch for ages. Just shooting the breeze, taking about the game and not talking about the fact that he doesn't have a thing for Ness. Or that he doesn't have a thing for _any_ girls, as a matter of fact. But in fact it is _me_ and my _thing_ that is the thing he has a thing for.

"So," he says back to me. Neither of us know to how to broach this conversation. We're quiet for a little while longer. All I can hear is the continuous chirp of the crickets and the occasional hooting owl form the forest out back; the uninterrupted, soft rolling roar of the surf up the road; and the sharp tick, tick, tick, of Seth's foot against the step as it agitates with his anxiety.

I realize that if I think _I'm_ a little nervous and unsure about taking about this, then he must be feeling at least ten times more. I have to make this okay for him. "You know I'm totally okay with this, don't you?" I say, just jumping in feet first. He knows what I'm talking about.

"Which bit?" he asks back, still looking over at the road in front of the house, it's started to drizzle, the porch light illuminates the fine spray of summer rain as it sprinkles down.

Maybe he doesn't know what I meant. "You know, the not liking Ness bit. Because, well, she's… and you're… and she's… she's…"

"A girl?" he offers, saving me from my own stupid caginess. He's got a measure of sarcasm in the tone. The little shit is enjoying my discomfort. He knew.

"Yes, smart ass, 'cause she's a girl."

"So you're ok with this?" he asks seriously, turning to look at me. His eyes showing me how much he has invested on my opinion and feelings on this new found revelation.

"Yeah Seth, it's okay. You could have told me, you know. I really am okay with it. It doesn't have to be a secret." He has a little look of relief on his face, the out of place wrinkle on his forehead relaxing and smoothing. But then it's back again, crinkling up his brows a doubtful huff escaping his lips. His eyes taking on a resentment I've never really seen in them before. It's not me he resents, it's this town.

"What world are you living in Jake? Of course it does. At least for a little while. Think about it; on the Res… In a small school? You know how some of the red necks on the team can be. I'm not willing to be in that kind of fight. I don't want to be known as the 'gay kid'. I'm just _me_. And for high school at least, that's how its gunna stay. And I don't really feel like getting my nose punched in by a couple of ass wipes every other day either." He's making out that he's nonchalant and indifferent. I'm not buying it. I saw that look I his eye. He's bull shitting himself. He's thought long and hard about this, he's a little bitter but he's scared shitless about it too.

"You wouldn't be the first gay kid in the school. There was a kid a few years ago, he graduated… three years ago, I think? He came out in senior year and from what I can remember, everyone was ok with it. I don't think anyone was surprised either."

He just look over at me, brows raised in doubt. "I know who you're talking about, he was in Leah and Sam's year. Alec Turner. He doesn't count Jake, he was Flaming queen. He didn't come _out, _he only made what everyone already knew official. I don't think I'm the same as that."

I think about what he says for a minute. He's kind of right. Seth acts and dresses pretty much the same as me. And I'm sure as shit not gay—not that there's anything wrong with that. God I love Seinfeld. And that Alec kid was as white middle class as they come, not too many gay, full blooded Quileute's running around the Reservation. He doesn't fit the stereotype, that's for sure. Oh shit. It dawns on me that, I spend so much energy fighting that Indian stereotype I hate so much, only to be guilty of boxing others into their own typecast. I'm as bad as the rest of the community. And ours is as pigeonholing as they come. La Push _and_ Forks. Small town gossip would be rife, he's right about that. And I can't speak for the JV team but he'd have a pretty time hard on the Varsity. Some of those guys are so homophobic. I got to protect my little bro from this at least. If he's ready to tell the world, then I'll support him, but he not ready yet, and until he is, I'll do my best to prevent him from getting thrown under that rainbow bus.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks. Leaning in front on my face. I think I've been off in my own world or a little longer than I thought.

"We'll firstly: I had no freaking idea, that's for sure. And I doubt anyone else has a clue either, if that's any consolation." I say, purposefully making eye contact with my surrogate little bro again. "Are you okay with Ness telling me? You know she didn't say it as a gossip or anything? It's just we were having an argument and…"

"It's ok Jake," he interjects. "She told me all about it." He lets out a little chuckle to himself. "I can't believe you stood by the bro code so faithfully. You really should have confirmed that she was off the market man," he says shaking his head in light hearted incredulity. "You kissed her at Lahote's party and she kissed you back and then you told her it was a _mistake_? Are you insane?"

"Yeah, I kind of feel like a chump about that now." This mention of Ness has me daydreaming of her. How beautiful she looked tonight, those legs in that skirt. How stunning she looked underneath my hands. I was wrong about those little-big tits, nothing little about them. How exquisite she looked in all her impassioned glory, her long red brown hair curing over her shoulders as she prepared to chew Seth out. I shift in my seat, trying to adjust my fledgling woody discreetly and bring my mind back to the topic at hand.

"Beard," I say in a laughing breath, the term still cracks me up. "She's so pissed at you. You know that right?"

"Oh man. I know. Who would have thought so much indignation could come out of such tiny pip-squeak? She tore me new asshole really good," he says, pausing and inclining his head, looking sideways though narrowed eyes into the night. "I guess when considering the main reason of her anger, any tearing of ass holes is kind of a sore topic, hey?" he says, he's patented Seth dimples caving as he grins at his own joke.

We both laugh at his little pun, the tension of the evening easing a notch further.

"So are we cool?" Seth asks me checking his watch. "Ness instructed for me to only take a half hour. She has to get home before her curfew."

"What do you mean?"

"Who do you think dropped me off, Jake?"

"Your new boyfriend?" I say, tongue in cheek.

"No fucker," he says elbowing me in the ribs, "_your_ new girlfriend."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I have all these instructions. You're meant to walk me home. _All romantic like!" _he adds in falsetto whimsy voice. "And then you got to meet her down at First beach."

"She's waiting for me?" I say jumping up to standing. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me? Enough with the heart to heart Clearwater, my girl's wait'n for me. Let's the fuck go!" I say flicking my head towards the road.

Ignoring the light shower that is almost over, I set a pretty fast pace as we walk up the block to Seth's Street. My mind runs through the conversation we just had. We didn't talk about his crush on me. I don't know if we have to. He knows I'm okay with all the other stuff. He knows I don't feel the same. And he and Ness are okay again. Mission complete if you ask me.

"Ness said you guys are gunna keep a low profile for a while. To make it look like me and her had a real break-up.," he says out of the silence.

Mission resumed.

"Yeah. You reckon a couple of weeks will be enough? I don't want the girls calling her a slut or nothing."

"Yeah Jake. A couple of weeks will be enough," he chuckles at my high school level of social concern. "The question _is…_ can you keep your hands off of her bodacious tatas for that long?"

He's such a smart ass. Wait…she told him about that? "So long as we can get in our fair share of secluded midnight rendezvous, I think I'll be okay," I reply dryly, all bravado and cool like. I don't know if talking about me liking and wanting to be with Renesmee and not _him_ is hurting his feelings. I don't think it is, if it is, he's not letting on about it anyway.

We walk a little more, stopping on his corner before I turn to go on ahead to the beach. The rain has stopped completely and the Earth is clean and fresh, a calming stillness in the night. Before I walk off though, I notice Seth shifting back and forwards, suddenly appearing nervous as hell.

"What's up?" I ask, big brother tone saturating my question. I want him to be able to talk to me about this.

He stills his shuffling feet and stares at me. I see him working up the metal to just say whatever it is he wants to say.

"Just for the record Jake," he starts. It's awkward but he gets his point across eventually, "I think Ness talked up my feelings for you a bit. You're like, the buffest guy I know, and I totally know you're _not_ gunna share any feelings for me. I do love you. But more like my brother. I mean… you _are_ the hottest guy around, but… I mean…" he continues to painfully stammer along. Then he sucks in a quick breath and shifts on his hip, the only outwardly gay thing I think I've ever seen him do. I find it endearing. Not at all intimidating or weird. And a piece of our life falls into place.

"It's like this; you've had the hots for Khaleesi off Game of Thrones forever right?" I give a little intrigued nod. Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen is a woman I'd lay my sword down for. If you get my meaning? I'm secretly wishing Ness keep her hair that crazy long, below the waist, for just a little longer now. I do like the red better though. And I really can't forget the fact that Ness is real flesh and blood and smells simply amazing, tastes even better and is absolutely more than willing to throw herself at me.

I back away a bit, keen now to get to that beach. To her. Seth keeps on with the analogy though, keeping me from leaving the street corner. "Just because you think a fictional character is hot, doesn't mean you actually expect her to randomly launch herself at you. You know what I mean?"

"You comparing me to Drogo?" I ask, a little hammed up pride in my voice and still half distracted by the image of Ness rising naked out of a fire with a dragon on her shoulder. Oh man. I got to focus. If he is comparing me to that guy though, I'm pretty okay with it— He was built. But yes, I get what he's trying to say. It's not _me_ per say that he likes. But my awesome guns. And the idea of what I represent to his hormonally driven mind. Again, I'm weirdly okay with this.

He calls over his shoulder as he walks away, deflating any ego I had building, "Drogo? Nah, not any more man. He's an Adonis. And any way, you cut off all your hair," throwing a mischievous smile back at me as he steps off.

As far as potentially weird, your brother form another mother is actually gay and likes you but doesn't want to necessarily jump your _ass_ conversations go. It think that went well.

And Ness is waiting for me.

* * *

**Only a short one guys, sorry. Nessie will be back in the next chapter.**

**Things will be starting to heat up soon!**

**Let me know if you liked.**


	22. Chapter 22 - Tiny Dancer

**Chapter 22- Tiny Dancer**

Ness is waiting for me on the beach. She's waiting for _me_. Jake. She is… Ness. She's—as Seth put it—my new girlfriend. I like that phrase with Ness's name wrapped around it.

So I turn around, a feeling of serenity coursing through me as I leave Seth to find his own way home and head in the direction of First Beach. I haven't felt this content for… I can't remember; even with all the potential bumps in the road, it never felt quite this easy with Bella. Ness simply makes living easy. I pick up my pace again, eventually hopping into a jog after a few more yards. As I come around the public bathrooms in the parking lot and that James Bond car comes into view, I'm stopped dead in my tracks from the scene before me. The lighting is good in the lot, and she's standing side on to the hood of the car which has its top pulled down, her hand resting on the bumper as she moves her leg back and forward. She's dancing.

She moves away from the car and I watch from the shadows as she dances. Slow and controlled moments, transitioning into jumps that defy gravity for her tiny frame. She's mesmerizing. My eyes are riveted on to her body as it moves, that skirt flowing around her legs, giving me small glimpses of what's underneath as she jumps and pirouettes. I see her kick off her shoes and skip dance down onto the beach proper. She continues to move further down the sand and a little farther away from the parking lot light. After a minute or two more she seems to finish whatever dance she's concocted in her head. She stops, looking out to the dark, almost back waves as she catches her breath. Her hands are wrapped around herself, her legs straight as she stands tall in the sand her now bare feet slightly buried in the greige powder at the water's edge. I'm drawn over to her now, my legs moving of their own accord.

Like she's sensed my closeness, she turns as I near. Her face splitting into to an illuminating grin as our eyes meet.

"Finally!" she smiles, moving towards me and taking both my hands as we stand together. With her back to the surf, the wind is blowing her hair forwards, across her face and I reach my hands up, pushing the curls back off her face and pull her in closer. Her chest is pushed into mine and I feel the melting of my soul as she warms me from the inside out. I'm happy to just look at her for a while. Soak in every feature now that I can do so up close, even if it is dark.

"Did you and Seth get to talk?" she asks, her little fingers tracing the outline of my cheek. We both seem to be content to just stand here and immerse ourselves in each other.

I nod, not breaking eye contact for a second, "You know you're beautiful when you dance," I say quietly. Seth has dominated enough of our time. I want to talk about us now.

"You saw that?" she asks, her cheeks tinting a light pink.

"I couldn't stop looking."

"Oh my god. How long were you spying on me?" she asks, laughing and a little embarrassed.

"Long enough to know that you're beautiful when you dance," I smile twisting her hair into a loose braid—I can do this thanks to fact that I've had long hair for most of my life. My hand hurts a little and feels tight around the swelling but I can manipulate my fingers enough to braid, and this little thing gives me hope for my degree of injury.

With her hair contained from the propelling wind, my hands are now free so they can wander down her back, settling on her hips. And my eyes just take all of her in; every curve and every line, that little cluster of freckles on her nose and the rest of her porcelain skin. "In fact, you're beautiful. Period." I profess, my voice stuck in my throat as it tightens with a sudden overwhelming emotion and it coming out as a huskiness.

I can't believe she's here, with _me. _I'm pleasantly dazed and thrilled at how fast this evening has moved. How, in the course of a football game, silly assumptions have been quashed. And this perfect, tiny, potentially broken yet so very complete girl is standing here in front of me, her arms around my waist. She's looking up at me and I think I see these same emotions swimming around her honey brown eyes. I hope so very much I'm right about what I see.

"And your mine," I say, offering her the chance to set me straight or cut me loose on this matter.

She hardly misses a beat, "I'm yours," she whispers back, wrapping her fingers around the front of my jersey and holding on tight. I love the sound of that coming out her lips, my eyes focused now on those two plump, full lines of her mouth. Before I get a chance to kiss her though, she has her arms up around my neck and pulling me down, her lips meeting mine somewhere in the middle of it all.

She still tastes like cherries, a little peppermint mixed in as well. Our lips working between each other; breath and spirit combining. Ignoring my slightly throbbing hand, I pull her even closer to me. She must go up onto tippy toes because she presses her lips infinitesimally closer and I feel the rise of her tits as they drag up higher on my chest. Oh, god.

My fingers crawl back down her sides then, rippling over her ribs and just curving over the sides of her breasts. At the same time her hands just graze down my neck and over my shoulders. Her fingers wind around the back of my arms, cupping her hands over my delts. This soft, hesitant touching—it's slower than what we were doing in the locker room. It's sensual and teasing and I could do this all night long, but I'm dying for more too.

"Oh Jake," she utters between my lips like a prayer, pulling back and catching her breath. The rain has started up again, but it's still hardly more than a fine mist. I'm happy to ignore it. I'm pretty sure Ness is too. She looks up at me, her eyes shining in the illumination of the street light. She's shaking her head as she gazes blissfully up at me.

"What?" I ask, my voice happy and light.

"I just…" she brings a finger up to her mouth as she thinks. Softy touching her own slightly swollen lips as if to check they're actually still attached. "You're really here. You're not just some flyaway dream fantasy I've concocted as I drift off the sleep."

"You fantasize about me?" I ask. I'm silently doing a happy dance as she reveals my feelings are reciprocated but I can't resist bringing out that little blush on her cheeks.

She just closes her eyes slowly to me and lets out a chuckling breath through her nose. "I'm not gunna answer that," she titters, leaning her face in to my chest. "I can't believe you just asked me that!" she squeals, her voice muffled through my t-shirt.

I lean my head down and to the side, trying to prize this new, shy girl off of me. I want to see her face. "What? I hope you do. Because you, Nessie, have been all I have fantasized about for a good month now."

I don't know where this bravado is coming from. I feel like I can do anything this around this girl. She gives me confidence. I just know instinctively that she believes in me. I don't know what she sees in me. But her confidence is instinctively felt. And this is starting to sound like a Kenny Rogers song. But she makes me feel the confidence to do anything, be anything. Ness. She does this to me.

But instead of professing all this heart felt stuff to her, I tell her basically that I jerk off to her mental image. Nice going Jake. Smooth one with the ladies. You've managed to not scare her off yet. This should be the one that gets her running for the hills though.

But it's not. Her little face lifts up to meet my eye and she leans her chin on my breastbone. "Really?" she asks, genuinely flattered by the idea and I think a little aroused, her toothy grin biting on her lower lip.

"Really," I growl back. "I fantasize about you and you fantasize about me. I think the logical conclusion is that we turn these fantasies in to realities." My face has lowered to hers and I mumble the last of my logic directly on to her lips.

"I think that's a very compelling argument Mr Black," she smiles, her teeth clicking against mine as she kisses me with an open mouth grin. Her hand relaxed on my shirt and the fingers of the other fists into my hair, tugging pleasantly at the nape. The rain has started to come down slightly heavier now and as much as I'd like to keep on ignoring it. We can't.

We pull away and taking her by the hand we run up the beach as the heavens open. Still a hold of my hand, she detours sideways, running parallel to the shoreline until we reach her previously discarded shoes. Then with a shoe each we make a dash back to the car. Just this extra minute in the rain has us both soaked to the bone. Laughing like the teenagers we are, we stop at the convertible, fumbling with the button to get the roof up and scrambling to get in and out of the deluge. It takes what seems like hours for the black canopy to completely expand.

Sluicing the water from her face she leans over her seat to look around the back seat of for something to dry off with. Her skirt is plastered to her things and this angle makes an above the knee into a just below the butt length.

"I got nothing," she says, turning around and plonking down on the vinyl of the ancient car.

"Oh you got _something_ Ness" I say to myself… just no towel. But it's louder than I had anticipated and I think she heard me. I see the teasing playfulness in her eye, she wets her lips slowly, her hands running over her hair, combing through like a fucking mermaid on a rock. And by the power of grey-skull, it's as sexy as fuck.

"I can't drive home like this," she giggles, "I'm soaked right through to my undies."

Ho-ly fuck. Her undies are soaked. If I thought I had a hard-on before. The picture I've created in my mind of Ness slowly peeling off her saturated clothes. I'd be more than happy to help her with that little predicament. She totally heard me.

"Let's go back to my house. I'll get you a towel and you can wear some of my clothes. I think I might have some of my second grade clothes in a box somewhere," I sass at her petite size. If I don't add a little cheek into the mix I'm gunna A) act like a horny douche and B) come in my pants cause I am actually a horny douche and not as sassy Casanova.

"Ha ha," she smiles, reaching to the middle ashtray and handing me the stowed keys. In our mad dash to the car I've ended up in the driver's seat. I guess every time we've been in a car together I was always driving. I like this; It's old fashioned I know, but I like to drive. Bella never let me drive her truck much at all.

I go to turn on the radio, only to find none of the lights illumining my finger pressing buttons that don't respond.

"Radio's broken," she says, "which is quite unacceptable, it's even worse than _your_ car," she teases.

"Hey!" I say, pretending to be hurt by the dig at my Rabbit. She's right though, it sucks to be without the tunes.

"Come on. Let's get me into something a little more comfortable," she teases pulling her wet tank away from her chest and releasing, letting the cotton stick back against her curves and giving me her best femme fatale voice. She means it as a joke.

Tell that to my dick.

So I reach between my legs and pull, siding the seat back so that my knees aren't somewhere around my ears.

"You're so short," I laugh. I shouldn't, but she is so small and I'm so tall. It's funny.

"No I'm not, you're just a Herculean of a man," she quips back. Laughing at me and the fact that I have to have the seat pushed back to full extension. But somehow complimenting me at the same time. She's amazing.

I start the car and head down the three blocks to my house. The car is hot, it;s got a shiftable sports auto transmission, fells like really good power and torque, in just the half mile I've driven it seems to handle okay too. I'd love to see how it goes on the open road though.

"Whose car is this any way?" I ask as we pull into my driveway. The wipers going a zillion miles a minute against the sheet of water that is now assaulting the glass.

"Mine," she smiles unclicking her belt and turning to face me.

"What? When did you get this?" This isn't anything like the cars we'd been looking for over the last few weeks. She wanted and American vintage, something with a bit of character, something that had been really loved before; not a _Volvo_. And a convertible at that. A convertible in a town where it rains more than it's dry? Whatever. I thought _I_ was her buying a car helper friend. I mean, she's entitled to buy whatever the hell car she wants, but I sort of wanted to be there to help her. Cars are my thing. Deep down I'm a little hurt, but I try and keep the pout off of my face.

I obvious fail to not look like a petulant child, because Ness leans over to me, cupping my cooling cheek in her still warm hand. "Oh Jake, don't look like that. Uncle Carlisle bought it on my dad's behalf. They're both control freaks. It's my money, but seeing as… well… dad put the money there in the first place, he as access to it. One of the other Doctors at Uncle Carl's hospital was selling it and he told my dad, who thought I'd love it and he apparently transferred the money. And now I have a Volvo C70," she says, a little disgruntled look on her face. "He brought it home this afternoon. I was gunna tell you all about it and get you to have a look under the pretty girl's hood after the game, but… well, you hurt your hand and…" her face lights up with mischief, "Well… you looked under a different girl's hood instead."

My seatbelt is already off, I didn't even bother to put it on, and I launch myself at her, fingers scrambling to untuck her wet singlet top, "I didn't really get to have a _good_ look at it earlier Ness. I think I better do a much more thorough inspection," I laugh as she squeals, halfheartedly attempting to bat my wondering hands away. You don't tease a guy like that and expect to get off scott-free. She's mine now and I figure I'm allowed a few wet t-shirt peeks. And a few good tickles of her ribs for punishment for being a tease. And just because she feels good under my hands.

"Uncle, uncle!" she cries as my good hand manages to lift up her top and I kiss my way up her torso until my lips lift over the line of her bra and I blow a big loud raspberry on the top of her titties. "They're inspected enough! Enough!" she cackles. I pull back. I don't know where the fun came from. It's that confidence thing she brings out in me. But I like it. I like it so very much. With Bella, as soon as we kissed, it all just became about the sex and stuff like that. But already I see that whatever friendship I have with Ness, it's now only better and more complete with this new physical element added in.

I lean my head on her brow and we both take a minute to catch our breath. Both almost cross-eyed as we continue to look into each other eyes, both with matching, face splitting grins.

"You have the most beautiful smile Jacob," she says, tracing her index finger over my lip, tickling the sensitive skin in its wake. "You stopped smiling for a little while back there. I hope you don't ever have a reason to stop smiling again. It's not fair to deprive the world of something so blindly magnificent."

I think the exact same thing back at her, but instead of telling her, I show her. She's already pressed against the side door and her head gently comes into contact with the glass as my lips meet hers and I press her a little further back. We make out for a while longer like this. Hot and steamy in the cabin from all the wet skin and clothes. Our touches sticky and hard to navigate until we both seem to be feeling the humidity building up to an uncomfortable level and we pull back and move to sit.

"Come on," I say, only half opening my door, preventing the rain form coming in any further but letting the interior light come on. "Let's see if I can find you something that will fit."

* * *

**That was only a short one, so I'll do my best to give you another on in the weekend. **

**Hope you enjoyed folks. **

**These two are in love and we have a little more loving time coming up soon.**

**Review if you liked.**


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